>/c 


BY  THE   SAME  AUTHOR 


The  Effect  of  the  War  of  1812  Upon  the  Consolidation 
of  the  Union — Johns  Hopkins  University  Press, 
1887 — 30  pp. 

True  and  False  Democracy— Charles  Scribner's  Sons, 
1915  (First  Edition,  The  Macmillan  Co.,  1007) 
— xii+m  pp. 

The  American  as  He  Is — Charles  Scribner's  Sons,  1915 
(First  Edition,  The  Macmillan  Co.,  1908) — x  + 
104  pp. 

Philosophy — Columbia  University  Press,  1911 — vii-f- 
51  PP- 

Why  Should  We  Change  Our  Form  of  Govern- 
ment ? — Charles  Scribner's  Sons,  1912 — xv  + 
159  PP- 

The   International    Mind — Charles  Scribner's  Sons. 

IQI3 — X  +121  pp. 

The  Meaning  of  Education — Charles  Scribner's  Sons, 
1915  (First  Edition,  The  Macmillan  Co.,  1898)— 
xiii  +  385  pp. 

A  World  in  Ferment — Charles  Scribner's  Sons, 
1918 — viii  +  254  pp. 

Is  America  Worth  Saving?— Charles  Scribner's  Son' 
1920 — xiii  +  398  pp. 


SCHOLARSHIP 

AND 

SERVICE 


SCHOLARSHIP 

AND 

SERVICE 

THE  POLICIES  AND  IDEALS  OF  A  NATIONAL  UNIVERSITY 
IN  A  MODERN   DEMOCRACY 


BY 


NICHOLAS  MURRAY  BUTLER 

PRESIDENT  OF   COLUMBIA    UNIVERSITY 
MEMBER   OF  THE   AMERICAN   ACADEMY   OF   ARTS   AND    LETTERS 


NEW  YORK 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 
1921 


COPYRIGHT,  1921,  BY 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


Published  September,  1921 


THt   SCRIBNER  PRESS 


_  LIBRARY 

p  a  o  !  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

SANTA  BARBARA 

bio 


TO  THE  TRUSTEES,  FACULTIES,  ALUMNI,  AND 
STUDENTS  OF  COLUMBIA  UNIVERSITY,  PAST  AND 
PRESENT,  WHO  HAVE  HELPED  TO  BUILD  A  LIGHT- 
HOUSE OF  LEARNING  TO  THE  END  THAT  NEW 
GENERATIONS  OF  MEN  MAY  BE  GUIDED  TO  KNOW 
THE  TRUTH  WHICH  SHALL  MAKE  THEM  FREE 


CONTENTS 


PACE 


INTRODUCTION     xi 

UNIVERSITY  IDEALS 
I      SCHOLARSHIP  AND  SERVICE  i 


II      FROM   KING'S   COLLEGE   TO   COLUMBIA  UNI- 
VERSITY, 1754-1904 17 

III  THE  UNIVERSITY  AND  THE  CITY 47 

IV  THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  UNIVERSITY 53 

V     MEMORY  AND  FAITH 69 

UNIVERSITY  PROBLEMS 

VI     THE     UNIVERSITY     PRESIDENT,     UNIVERSITY 

TEACHER,  AND  UNIVERSITY  STUDENT  ...  79 

VII     THE  AMERICAN  COLLEGE 95 

VIII      THE  ACADEMIC  CAREER in 

IX     DIFFERENT  TYPES  OF  ACADEMIC  TEACHER    .  117 

X     METHODS  OF  UNIVERSITY  TEACHING   ....  125 

XI     COLLEGE  AND  UNIVERSITY  TEACHING  ....  131 

XII     MODERN  FOREIGN  LANGUAGE  STUDY  ....  141 

XIII     TRUE  VOCATIONAL  PREPARATION 147 

vii 


viii  CONTENTS 


PACE 


XIV  CRITICISM  OF  UNIVERSITY  PROFESSORS     .  153 

XV  GOVERNMENT  AND  ADMINISTRATION   ...  161 

XVI  MAKING  LIBERAL  MEN  AND  WOMEN    .    .  177 

XVII  THE  NEW  PAGANISM 191 

XVIII  THE  BUILDING  OF  CHARACTER 201 

UNIVERSITY  COUNSELS 

XIX  WORTHY  COMPANIONSHIP 207 

XX  REASONABLENESS 213 

XXI  STEADFAST  IN  THE  FAITH 217 

XXII  THE  NEW  CALL  TO  SERVICE 227 

XXIII  COLUMBIA  AND  THE  WAR 231 

XXIV  THE  CONQUESTS  OF  WAR  AND  OF  PEACE  243 
XXV  CLEAR  THINKING 251 

XXVI  THE  GOSPEL  OF  HOPE 257 

XXVII  PERSONAL  RESPONSIBILITY 263 

XXVIII  THINKING  FOR  ONE'S  SELF 269 

XXIX  THE  SPIRIT  OF  UNREST 275 

XXX*  LYNCH-LAW      283 

XXXI  CONTACT  WITH  THE  FIRST-RATE     ....  289 

XXXII  INTEGRITY 295 


CONTENTS  ix 

PAGE 

XXXIII  INTELLECTUAL  CHARITY 301 

XXXIV  THE  AGE  OF  IRRATIONALISM 309 

XXXV     SUCCESS 317 

XXXVI     THOROUGHNESS 323 

XXXVII      LIBERTY 329 

XXXVIII     THE  OPEN  MIND 337 

XXXIX     THE  KINGDOM  OF  LIGHT 345 

XL     A  WORLD  IN  FERMENT 353 

XLI      NEW  VALUES 359 

XLII     DISCIPLINE 365 

XLIII      CAPTAINS  OF  A  GREAT  EFFORT   ....  373 

XLIV     FAITH  IN  THE  FUTURE 381 

INDEX 387 


INTRODUCTION 

Of  all  institutions  which  modern  man  has  built  to 
give  form  and  purpose  to  his  civilization,  the  university 
is  least  understood.  The  law,  the  state,  the  church 
are  eagerly  discussed  and  disputed,  but  their  meaning 
is  a  matter  of  general  agreement.  That  the  same 
may  not  be  said  of  the  university  is  due  in  large  part 
to  the  university  itself.  The  university  has  persisted 
in  looking  upon  itself,  and  therefore  has  been  largely 
looked  upon,  as  merely  an  advanced  type  of  school 
for  the  training  of  youth.  In  fact,  however,  the  train- 
ing of  youth  is  a  mere  incident  in  the  work  of  the 
modern  university,  which  has  been  brought  into  being 
primarily  to  satisfy  and  to  give  body  to  the  restless 
search  of  the  human  spirit  for  truth.  It  is  the  busi- 
ness of  the  university  untiringly  to  seek  for  truth  in 
all  its  forms,  to  hold  fast  to  truth  once  gained,  and  to 
interpret  it.  The  university  in  modern  life  represents, 
as  did  the  cathedral  in  the  Middle  Ages,  the  noblest 
convictions  and  emotions  of  the  human  spirit.  The 
cathedral  was  used  as  a  place  of  religious  worship  to 
be  sure,  but  its  pointed  arches,  its  pinnacles,  and  its 
majestic  and  harmonious  beauty  added  to  worship 
a  physical  expression  of  the  noblest  aspiration  of  those 
peoples  who  were  then  in  the  van  of  civilization.  In 
like  manner  the  university  is  certainly  a  place  where 


xii  INTRODUCTION 

youth  are  taught,  but  its  existence,  its  many-sided 
activity,  and  its  wide-spread  influence  give  evidence 
of  the  purpose  of  mankind  to  make  new  conquests  of 
the  unknown  and  new  uses  of  those  conquests.  The 
university  that  is  not  conscious  of  its  real  meaning 
and  of  the  part  which  it  may  play  in  the  history  of 
the  life  of  civilized  man  is  a  university  in  name  only. 
The  papers  that  follow  are  an  effort  to  interpret 
the  modern  university  in  terms  of  its  ideals,  of  its  prob- 
lems, and  of  its  counsels.  Although  the  illustrations 
are  drawn  from  the  life  of  but  one  university,  the  prin- 
ciples which  they  make  plain  are  common  to  all  uni- 
versities worthy  of  the  name  that  seek  to  minister  to 
the  mind  and  the  spirit  of  man,  organized  in  his  mod- 
ern democratic  society. 

NICHOLAS  MURRAY  BUTLER 

COLUMBIA  UNIVERSITY 

IN  THE  CITY  OF  NEW  YORK 
June  i,  1921 


SCHOLARSHIP  AND  SERVICE 


Inaugural  address  as  twelfth  president  of  Columbia  University, 
April  19,  1902 


SCHOLARSHIP  AND  SERVICE 

President  Roosevelt,  Mr.  Chairman  and  gentlemen  of  the 
Trustees,  my  associates  of  the  faculties,  alumni  and 
students  of  Columbia,  our  welcome  guests,  ladies  and 
gentlemen : 

For  these  kindly  and  generous  greetings  I  am  pro- 
foundly grateful.  To  make  adequate  response  to 
them  is  beyond  my  power.  The  words  that  have  been 
spoken  humble  as  well  as  inspire.  They  express  a  con- 
fidence and  a  hopefulness  which  it  will  tax  human 
capacity  to  the  utmost  to  justify,  while  they  picture  a 
possible  future  for  this  university  which  fires  the 
imagination  and  stirs  the  soul.  We  may  truthfully  say 
of  Columbia,  as  Daniel  Webster  said  of  Massachusetts, 
that  her  past,  at  least,  is  secure;  and  we  look  into  the 
future  with  high  hope  and  happy  augury. 

To-day  it  would  be  pleasant  to  dwell  upon  the  labors 
and  the  service  of  the  splendid  body  of  men  and 
women,  the  university's  teaching  scholars,  in  whose 
keeping  the  honor  and  the  glory  of  Columbia  rest. 
Their  learning,  their  devotion,  and  their  skill  call 
gratitude  to  the  heart  and  words  of  praise  to  the  lips. 
It  would  be  pleasant,  too,  to  think  aloud  of  the  pro- 
cession of  men  which  has  gone  out  from  Columbia's 
doors  for  well-nigh  a  century  and  a  half  to  serve  God 
and  the  state;  and  of  those  younger  ones  who  are  even 

3 


4  SCHOLARSHIP  AND  SERVICE 

now  lighting  the  lamps  of  their  lives  at  the  altar-fires 
of  eternal  truth.  Equally  pleasant  would  it  be  to 
pause  to  tell  those  who  labor  with  us — north,  south, 
east,  and  west — and  our  nation's  schools,  higher  and 
lower  alike,  how  much  they  have  taught  us  and  by 
what  bonds  of  affection  and  fellow  service  we  are 
linked  to  them. 

All  these  themes  crowd  the  mind  as  we  reflect  upon 
the  significance  of  the  ideals  which  we  are  gathered  to 
celebrate;  for  this  is  no  personal  function.  The  pass- 
ing of  position  or  power  from  one  servant  of  the  uni- 
versity to  another  is  but  an  incident;  the  university 
itself  is  lasting,  let  us  hope  eternal.  Its  spirit  and  its 
life,  its  usefulness  and  its  service,  are  the  proper  sub- 
ject for  our  contemplation  to-day. 

The  shifting  panorama  of  the  centuries  reveals 
three  separate  and  underlying  forces  which  shape  and 
direct  the  higher  civilization.  Two  of  these  have  a 
spiritual  character,  and  one  appears  to  be,  in  part,  at 
least,  economic,  although  clearer  vision  may  one  day 
show  that  they  all  spring  from  a  common  source. 
These  three  forces  are  the  church,  the  state,  and 
science,  or  better,  scholarship.  Many  have  been  their 
interdependences  and  manifold  their  intertwinings. 
Now  one,  now  another  seems  uppermost.  Charle- 
magne, Hildebrand,  Darwin  are  central  figures,  each 
for  his  time.  At  one  epoch  these  forces  are  in  alliance, 
at  another  in  opposition.  Socrates  died  in  prison, 
Bruno  at  the  stake.  Marcus  Aurelius  sat  on  an  em- 
peror's throne,  and  Thomas  Aquinas  ruled  the  mind  of 


SCHOLARSHIP  AND  SERVICE  5 

a  universal  church.  All  else  is  tributary  to  these 
three,  and  we  grow  in  civilization  as  mankind  comes  to 
recognize  the  existence  and  the  importance  of  each. 

It  is  commonplace  that  in  the  earliest  family  com- 
munity church  and  state  were  one.  The  patriarch  was 
both  ruler  and  priest.  There  was  neither  division  of 
labor  nor  separation  of  function.  When  development 
took  place,  church  and  state,  while  still  substantially 
one,  had  distinct  organs  of  expression.  These  often 
clashed,  and  the  separation  of  the  two  principles  was 
thereby  hastened.  As  yet  scholarship  had  hardly  any 
representatives.  When  they  did  begin  to  appear,  when 
science  and  philosophy  took  their  rise,  they  were  often 
prophets  without  honor  either  within  or  without  their 
own  country,  and  were  either  misunderstood  or  perse- 
cuted by  church  and  state  alike.  But  the  time  came 
when  scholarship,  truth-seeking  for  its  own  sake,  had 
so  far  justified  itself  that  both  church  and  state  united 
to  give  it  permanent  organization  and  a  visible  body. 
This  organization  and  body  was  the  university.  For 
nearly  ten  centuries — a  period  longer  than  the  history 
of  parliamentary  government  or  of  Protestantism — the 
university  has  existed  to  embody  the  spirit  of  scholar- 
ship. Its  arms  have  been  extended  to  every  science 
and  to  all  letters.  It  has  known  periods  of  doubt,  of 
weakness,  and  of  obscurantism;  but  the  spirit  which 
gave  it  life  has  persisted  and  has  overcome  every  ob- 
stacle. To-day,  in  the  opening  century,  the  univer- 
sity proudly  asserts  itself  in  every  civilized  land,  not 
least  in  our  own,  as  the  bearer  of  a  tradition  and  the 


6  SCHOLARSHIP  AND  SERVICE 

servant  of  an  ideal  without  which  life  would  be  barren, 
and  the  two  remaining  principles  which  underlie  civili- 
zation robbed  of  half  their  power.  To  destroy  the 
university  would  be  to  turn  back  the  hands  upon  the 
dial  of  history  for  centuries;  to  cripple  it  is  to  put 
shackles  upon  every  forward  movement  that  we  prize 
— research,  industry,  commerce,  the  liberal  and  prac- 
tical arts  and  sciences.  To  support  and  enhance  it  is 
to  set  free  new  and  vitalizing  energy  in  every  field  of 
human  endeavor.  Scholarship  has  shown  the  world 
that  knowledge  is  convertible  into  comfort,  prosperity, 
and  success,  as  well  as  into  new  and  higher  types  of 
social  order  and  of  spirituality.  "Take  fast  hold  of 
instruction,"  said  the  Wise  Man;  "let  her  not  go:  keep 
her;  for  she  is  thy  life." 

Man's  conception  of  what  is  most  worth  knowing 
and  reflecting  upon,  of  what  may  best  compel  his 
scholarly  energies,  has  changed  greatly  with  the  years. 
His  earliest  impressions  were  of  his  own  insignificance 
and  of  the  stupendous  powers  and  forces  by  which  he 
was  surrounded  and  ruled.  The  heavenly  fires,  the 
storm-cloud  and  the  thunderbolt,  the  rush  of  waters 
and  the  change  of  seasons,  all  filled  him  with  an  awe 
which  straightway  saw  in  them  manifestations  of  the 
superhuman  and  the  divine.  Man  was  absorbed  in 
nature,  a  mythical  and  legendary  nature  to  be  sure, 
but  still  the  nature  out  of  which  science  was  one  day 
to  arise.  Then,  at  the  call  of  Socrates,  he  turned  his 
back  on  nature  and  sought  to  know  himself;  to  learn 
the  secrets  of  those  mysterious  and  hidden  processes  by 


SCHOLARSHIP  AND  SERVICE  7 

which  he  felt  and  thought  and  acted.  The  intellectual 
centre  of  gravity  had  passed  from  nature  to  man. 
From  that  day  to  this  the  goal  of  scholarship  has  been 
the  understanding  of  both  nature  and  man,  the  unit- 
ing of  them  in  one  scheme  or  plan  of  knowledge,  and 
the  explaining  of  them  as  the  offspring  of  the  omnipo- 
tent activity  of  a  Creative  Spirit,  the  Christian  God. 
Slow  and  painful  have  been  the  steps  toward  the  goal 
which  to  St.  Augustine  seemed  so  near  at  hand,  but 
which  has  receded  through  the  intervening  centuries 
as  the  problems  grew  more  complex  and  as  the  processes 
of  inquiry  became  so  refined  that  whole  worlds  of  new 
and  unsuspected  facts  revealed  themselves.  Scholars 
divided  into  two  camps.  The  one  would  have  ultimate 
and  complete  explanations  at  any  cost;  the  other,  over- 
come by  the  greatness  of  the  undertaking,  held  that 
no  explanation  in  a  large  or  general  way  was  possible. 
The  one  camp  bred  sciolism;  the  other  narrow  and 
helpless  specialization. 

At  this  point  the  modern  university  problem  took 
its  rise;  and  for  over  four  hundred  years  the  university 
has  been  striving  to  adjust  its  organization  so  that  it 
may  most  effectively  bend  its  energies  to  the  solution 
of  the  problem  as  it  is.  For  this  purpose  the  uni- 
versity's scholars  have  unconsciously  divided  them- 
selves into  three  types  or  classes:  those  who  investigate 
and  break  new  ground;  those  who  explain,  apply,  and 
make  understandable  the  fruits  of  new  investigation; 
and  those  philosophically  minded  teachers  who  relate 
the  new  to  the  old,  and,  without  dogma  or  intolerance, 


8  SCHOLARSHIP  AND  SERVICE 

point  to  the  lessons  taught  by  the  developing  human 
spirit  from  its  first  blind  gropings  toward  the  light  on 
the  uplands  of  Asia  or  by  the  shores  of  the  Mediter- 
ranean, through  the  insights  of  the  world's  great  poets, 
artists,  scientists,  philosophers,  statesmen,  and  priests, 
to  its  highly  organized  institutional  and  intellectual 
life  of  to-day.  The  purpose  of  scholarly  activity  re- 
quires for  its  accomplishment  men  of  each  of  these 
three  types.  They  are  allies,  not  enemies;  and  happy 
the  age,  the  people,  or  the  university  in  which  all  three 
are  well  represented.  It  is  for  this  reason  that  the 
university  which  does  not  strive  to  widen  the  bound- 
aries of  human  knowledge,  to  tell  the  story  of  the  new 
in  terms  that  those  familiar  with  the  old  can  under- 
stand, and  to  put  before  its  students  a  philosophical 
interpretation  of  historic  civilization,  is,  I  think,  fall- 
ing short  of  the  demands  which  both  society  and  uni- 
versity ideals  themselves  may  fairly  make. 

A  group  of  distinguished  scholars  in  separate  and 
narrow  fields  can  no  more  constitute  a  university  than 
a  bundle  of  admirably  developed  nerves,  without  a 
brain  and  spinal  cord,  can  produce  all  the  activities  of 
the  human  organism.  It  may  be  said,  I  think,  of  the 
unrelated  and  unexplained  specialist,  as  Matthew  Ar- 
nold said  of  the  Puritan,  that  he  is  in  great  danger 
because  he  imagines  himself  in  possession  of  a  rule 
telling  him  the  unum  necessarium,  or  one  thing  need- 
ful; that  he  then  remains  satisfied  with  a  very 
crude  conception  of  what  this  rule  really  is,  and  what 
it  tells  him;  and  in  this  dangerous  state  of  assurance 


SCHOLARSHIP  AND  SERVICE  9 

and  self-satisfaction  proceeds  to  give  full  swing  to  a 
number  of  the  instincts  of  his  ordinary  self.  And 
these  instincts,  since  he  is  but  human,  are  toward  a 
general  view  of  the  world  from  the  very  narrow  and 
isolated  spot  on  which  he  stands.  Only  the  largest 
and  bravest  spirits  can  become  great  specialists  in 
scholarship  and  resist  this  instinctive  tendency  to 
hasty  and  crude  philosophizing.  The  true  scholar  is 
one  who  has  been  brought  to  see  the  full  meaning  of 
the  words  development  and  history.  He  must,  in 
other  words,  be  a  free  man  as  Aristotle  understood  the 
term.  The  free  man  is  he  who  has  a  largeness  of  view 
which  is  unmistakable  and  which  permits  him  to  see 
the  other  side;  a  knowledge  of  the  course  of  man's 
intellectual  history  and  its  meaning;  a  grasp  of  prin- 
ciples and  a  standard  for  judging  them;  the  power 
and  habit  of  reflection  firmly  established;  a  fine  feel- 
ing for  moral  and  intellectual  distinctions;  and  the 
kindliness  of  spirit  and  nobility  of  purpose  which  are 
the  support  of  genuine  character.  On  this  foundation 
highly  specialized  knowledge  is  scholarship;  on  a 
foundation  of  mere  skill,  deftness,  or  erudition  it  is 
not.  The  university  is  concerned  with  the  promotion 
of  the  true  scholarship.  It  asks  it  in  its  scholars  who 
teach;  it  inculcates  it  in  its  scholars  who  learn.  It 
believes  that  the  languages,  the  literatures,  the  art,  the 
science,  and  the  institutions  of  those  historic  peoples 
who  have  successively  occupied  the  centre  of  the  stage 
on  which  the  great  human  drama  is  being  acted  out 
are  full  of  significance  for  the  world  of  to-day;  and  it 


io  SCHOLARSHIP  AND  SERVICE 

asks  that  those  students  who  come  to  it  to  be  led  into 
special  fields  of  inquiry,  of  professional  study,  or  of 
practical  application,  shall  have  come  to  know  some- 
thing of  all  this  in  an  earlier  period  of  general  and 
liberal  studies. 

Emerson's  oration  before  the  oldest  American  so- 
ciety of  scholars,  made  nearly  sixty-five  years  ago, 
is  the  magnetic  pole  toward  which  all  other  discussions 
of  scholarship  must  inevitably  point.  His  superb 
apology  for  scholarship  and  for  the  scholar  as  Man 
Thinking  opened  an  era  in  our  nation's  intellectual 
life.  The  scholar,  as  Emerson  drew  him,  is  not 
oppressed  by  nature  or  averse  from  it,  for  he  knows  it 
as  the  opposite  of  his  soul,  answering  to  it  part  for 
part.  He  is  not  weighed  down  by  books  or  by  the 
views  which  Cicero,  which  Locke,  which  Bacon  have 
given,  for  he  knows  that  they  were  young  men  like 
himself  when  they  wrote  their  books  and  gave  their 
views.  He  is  not  a  recluse  or  unfit  for  practical  work, 
because  he  knows  that  every  opportunity  for  action 
passed  by  is  a  loss  of  power.  The  scholar,  in  short,  as 
the  university  views  him  and  aims  to  conserve  and  to 
produce  him  and  his  type,  is  a  free  man,  thinking  and 
acting  in  the  light  of  the  world's  knowledge  and  guided 
by  its  highest  ideals. 

In  this  sense  the  university  is  the  organ  of  scholar- 
ship, and  in  this  sense  it  aims  to  be  its  embodiment. 
The  place  of  scholarship  has  been  long  since  won  and 
is  more  widely  recognized  and  acknowledged  than  ever 
before.  The  church  and  the  state  which  first  gave  it 


SCHOLARSHIP  AND  SERVICE  n 

independence  are  in  close  alliance  with  it  and  it  with 
them.  The  three  are  uniting  in  the  effort  to  produce  a 
reverent,  well-ordered,  and  thoughtful  democratic  civi- 
lization in  which  the  eternal  standards  of  righteous- 
ness and  truth  will  increasingly  prevail. 

But  a  university  is  not  for  scholarship  alone.  '  In 
these  modern  days  the  university  is  not  apart  from  the 
activities  of  the  world,  but  in  them  and  of  them.  It 
deals  with  real  problems  and  it  relates  itself  to  life  as 
it  is.  The  university  is  for  both  scholarship  and  ser- 
vice; and  herein  lies  that  ethical  quality  which  makes 
the  university  a  real  person,  bound  by  its  very  nature 
to  the  service  of  others.  To  fulfil  its  high  calling  the 
university  must  give  and  give  freely  to  its  students, 
to  the  world  of  learning  and  of  scholarship,  to  the  de- 
velopment of  trade,  commerce,  and  industry,  to  the 
community  in  which  it  has  its  home,  and  to  the  state 
and  nation  whose  foster-child  it  is.  A  university's 
capacity  for  service  is  the  rightful  measure  of  its  im- 
portunity. The  university's  service  is  to-day  far 
greater,  far  more  expensive,  and  in  ways  far  more 
numerous  than  ever  before.  It  has  only  lately  learned 
to  serve,  and  hence  it  has  only  lately  learned  the  possi- 
bilities that  lie  open  before  it.  Every  legitimate  de- 
mand for  guidance,  for  leadership,  for  expert  knowl- 
edge, for  trained  skill,  for  personal  service,  it  is  the 
bounden  duty  of  the  university  to  meet.  It  may  not 
urge  that  it  is  too  busy  accumulating  stores  of  learning 
and  teaching  students.  Serve  it  must,  as  well  as  ac- 
cumulate and  teach,  upon  pain  of  loss  of  moral  power 


12  SCHOLARSHIP  AND  SERVICE 

and  impairment  of  usefulness.     At  every  call  it  must 
show  that  it  is: 

"Strong  for  service  still,  and  unimpaired." 

The  time-old  troubles  of  town  and  gown  are  relics 
of  an  academic  aloofness  which  was  never  desirable 
and  which  is  no  longer  possible. 

In  order  to  prepare  itself  for  efficient  service  the  uni- 
versity must  count  in  its  ranks  men  competent  to  be 
the  intellectual  and  spiritual  leaders  of  the  nation  and 
competent  to  train  others  for  leadership.  Great  per- 
sonalities make  great  universities.  And  great  person- 
alities must  be  left  free  to  grow  and  express  themselves, 
each  in  his  own  way,  if  they  are  to  reach  a  maximum  of 
efficiency. 

Spiritual  life  is  subject  neither  to  mathematical  rule 
nor  to  chemical  analysis.  Rational  freedom  is  the  goal 
toward  which  the  human  spirit  moves,  slowly  but  ir- 
resistibly, as  the  solar  system  toward  a  point  in  the 
constellation  Hercules;  and  rational  freedom  is  the 
best  method  for  its  movement.  Moreover,  different 
subjects  in  the  field  of  knowledge  and  its  applications 
require  different  approach  and  different  treatment. 
It  is  the  business  of  the  university  to  foster  each  and 
all.  It  gives  its  powerful  support  to  the  learned  pro- 
fessions, whose  traditional  number  has  of  late  been 
added  to  by  architecture,  engineering,  and  teaching, 
all  of  which  are  closely  interwoven  with  the  welfare  of 
the  community.  It  urges  forward  its  investigators  in 
every  department,  and  rewards  their  achievements 


SCHOLARSHIP  AND  SERVICE  13 

with  the  academic  laurel.  It  studies  the  conditions 
under  which  school  and  college  education  may  best  be 
given,  and  it  takes  active  part  in  advancing  them.  In 
particular,  it  guards  the  priceless  treasure  of  that 
liberal  learning  which  I  have  described  as  underlying 
all  true  scholarship,  and  gives  to  it  full-hearted  care 
and  protection.  These  are  all  acts  of  service  direct 
and  powerful. 

The  university  does  still  more.  It  lends  its  members 
for  expert  and  helpful  service  to  nation,  state,  and 
city.  University  men  are  rapidly  mobilized  for  diplo- 
matic service,  for  the  negotiation  of  important  treaties, 
for  the  administration  of  dependencies,  for  special  and 
confidential  service  to  the  government,  or  some  depart- 
ment of  it,  and,  the  task  done,  they  return  quietly  to 
the  ranks  of  teaching  scholars,  as  the  soldiers  in  the 
armies  of  the  war  between  the  States  went  back  to 
civil  life  without  delay  or  friction.  These  same  uni- 
versity men  are  found  foremost  in  the  ranks  of  good 
citizenship  everywhere  and  as  laymen  in  the  service  of 
the  church.  They  carry  hither  and  yon  their  practical 
idealism,  their  disciplined  minds,  and  their  full  in- 
formation, and  no  human  interest  is  without  their 
helpful  and  supporting  strength.  It  is  in  ways  like 
these  that  the  university  has  shown,  a  thousand  times, 
that  sound  theory  and  correct  practice  are  two  sides 
of  a  shield.  A  theorist  is  one  who  sees,  and  the  prac- 
tical man  must  be  in  touch  with  theory  if  he  is  to  see 
what  it  is  that  he  does. 

What  the  future  development  of  the  great  univer- 


14  SCHOLARSHIP  AND  SERVICE 

sities  is  to  be  perhaps  no  one  can  foresee.  But  this 
much  is  certain :  Every  city  which,  because  of  its  size 
or  wealth  or  position,  aims  to  be  a  centre  of  enlighten- 
ment and  a  true  world-capital  must  be  the  home  of  a 
great  university.  Here  students  and  teachers  will 
throng  by  the  mere  force  of  intellectual  gravitation, 
and  here  service  will  abound  from  the  mere  host  of  op- 
portunities. The  city,  not  in  its  corporate  capacity 
but  as  a  spiritual  entity,  will  be  the  main  support  of 
the  university,  and  the  university  in  turn  will  be  the 
chief  servant  of  the  city's  higher  life.  True  citizens 
will  vie  with  each  other  in  strengthening  the  university 
for  scholarship  and  for  service.  In  doing  so  they  can 
say,  with  Horace,  that  they  have  builded  themselves 
monuments  more  lasting  than  bronze  and  loftier  than 
the  pyramids  reared  by  kings,  monuments  which  neither 
flood  nor  storm  nor  the  long  flight  of  years  can  over- 
turn or  destroy.  Sir  John  de  Balliol,  doing  a  penance 
fixed  by  the  abbot  of  Durham;  Walter  de  Merton, 
making  over  his  manor  house  and  estates  to  secure  to 
others  the  advantages  which  he  had  not  himself  en- 
joyed; John  Harvard,  leaving  half  his  property  and 
his  library  to  the  infant  college  by  the  Charles,  and 
Elihu  Yale,  giving  money  and  his  books  to  the  col- 
legiate school  in  New  Haven,  have  written  their  names 
on  the  roll  of  the  immortals  and  have  conferred  untold 
benefits  upon  the  human  race.  Who  were  their  wealthy, 
powerful,  and  high-born  contemporaries  ?  Where  are 
they  in  the  grateful  esteem  of  the  generations  that 
have  come  after  them  ?  What  service  have  they  made 


SCHOLARSHIP  AND  SERVICE  15 

possible  ?  What  now  avails  their  wealth,  their  power, 
their  high  birth  ?  Balliol,  Merton,  Harvard,  Yale  are 
names  known  wherever  the  English  language  is  spoken 
and  beyond.  They  signify  high  purpose,  zeal  for  learn- 
ing, opposition  to  philistinism  and  ignorance.  They 
are  closely  interwoven  with  the  social,  the  religious, 
the  political,  the  literary  history  of  our  race.  Where 
else  are  there  monuments  such  as  theirs  ? 

Scholarship  and  service  are  the  true  university's 
ideal.  The  university  of  to-day  is  not  the  "home  of 
lost  causes,  and  forsaken  beliefs,  and  unpopular 
names,  and  impossible  loyalties."  It  keeps  step  with 
the  march  of  progress,  widens  its  sympathies  with 
growing  knowledge,  and  among  a  democratic  people 
seeks  only  to  instruct,  to  uplift,  and  to  serve,  in  order 
that  the  cause  of  religion  and  learning,  and  of  human 
freedom  and  opportunity,  may  be  continually  advanced 
from  century  to  century  and  from  age  to  age. 


II 


FROM    KING'S    COLLEGE    TO 
COLUMBIA    UNIVERSITY, 

1754-1904 


An  oration  in  commemoration  of  the  One  Hundred  and  Fiftieth 
Anniversary  of  the  foundation  of  King's  College,  delivered  at 
Columbia  University,  October  31,  1904 


FROM  KING'S  COLLEGE  TO  COLUMBIA 
UNIVERSITY,  1754-1904 

We  are  standing  by  one  of  the  lines  which  imagina- 
tion draws  across  the  changeless  chart  of  time.  We 
instinctively  stop  and  look  back.  The  mere  flight  of 
time  itself  fills  our  minds  with  reverent  wonder,  and 
we  measure  it  off  by  decades  and  by  centuries  that 
we  may  the  better  comprehend  it.  Yet  it  is  not  the 
flight  of  time,  but  the  story  of  accomplishment  in 
time — time's  quality,  may  we  say  ? — which  instructs, 
stimulates,  and  spurs  us  on.  The  record  of  the  past 
brings  us  knowledge  of  the  subtle  processes  by  which 
ideas  weave  for  themselves  a  material  fabric.  It  counts 
for  us  the  steps  by  which  man  climbs  the  lofty  heights 
of  his  ideals. 

What  one  hundred  and  fifty  years  of  recorded  time 
is  filled  so  full  as  the  period  of  our  university's  life  ? 
When  before  have  the  face  of  nature  and  the  mind  of 
man  both  been  so  radically  changed  ?  The  first  presi- 
dent of  King's  College  found  the  writings  of  Bacon  and 
of  Newton  to  be  novel  and  revolutionary.  Stirred  by 
their  teachings,  he  became,  while  still  a  tutor  at  Yale 
College,  the  chief  influence  in  displacing  on  these 
shores  the  Ptolemaic  conception  of  the  universe  for 
the  Copernican.  From  Ptolemy  to  Darwin,  then,  and 
on  to  a  world  of  divisible  atoms  and  newly  discovered 

19 


20  FROM  KING'S  COLLEGE 

forces,  stupendous  but  hidden,  whose  nature  we  only 
partially  apprehend  and  comprehend  not  at  all,  so  far 
it  is  from  King's  College  to  Columbia  University. 

A  host  of  commonplaces  of  our  modern  thought  were 
unknown  to  the  generation  which  hailed  the  foundation 
of  King's  College.  Newton  had  been  dead  but  seven- 
teen years,  and  his  doctrines  were  as  new  and  as 
startling  to  the  rest  of  the  world  as  they  had  been  to 
President  Samuel  Johnson.  Kant,  who  was  destined 
to  give  its  decisive  character  to  modern  philosophy, 
was  but  thirty  years  of  age,  and  had  not  yet  taken  his 
university  degree;  perhaps  no  one  outside  of  Konigs- 
berg  had  ever  heard  his  name.  Rousseau,  the  connect- 
ing-link between  English  revolutionary  theory  and 
French  revolutionary  practice,  was  in  middle  life  and 
already  becoming  famous.  Linnaeus  and  Buffon  were 
laying  the  foundations  of  a  new  natural  history,  but 
Lamarck,  who  was  to  reveal  the  modern  theory  of 
descent,  was  only  a  child  of  ten.  Laplace  at  the  ten- 
der age  of  five,  and  Lavoisier  at  eleven,  could  not  yet 
be  recognized  as  likely  to  make  massive  contributions 
to  the  sciences  of  mathematics  and  of  chemistry.  Of 
the  publicists  who  were  to  guide  the  thought  of  Eng- 
lish-speaking men  at  a  great  crisis,  Burke  was  but  six 
years  out  of  Trinity  College,  Dublin,  and  had  not  yet 
entered  Parliament;  Washington  was  a  youth  of 
twenty-two,  skirmishing  with  the  French  in  what  was 
then  the  Far  West;  Jefferson  was  a  boy  of  eleven  at 
play  in  Virginia,  and  Hamilton  was  unborn.  The  new 
university  at  Gottingen  had  been  opened  in  1737 


TO  COLUMBIA    UNIVERSITY  21 

with  that  liberty  in  teaching  which  was  to  build  up 
the  noble  ideal  of  science  as  an  end  in  itself  that  has 
since  come  to  be  the  inspiration  of  every  true  scholar. 
But  Halle  and  Gottingen,  the  first  of  modern  univer- 
sities, were  wholly  unknown  in  America,  and  Oxford 
and  Cambridge  were  anything  but  safe  models  for  the 
new  college  of  the  province  of  New  York  to  follow. 
Dean  Swift  declared  that  he  had  heard  persons  of 
high  rank  say  that  they  could  learn  nothing  more  at 
Oxford  and  Cambridge  than  to  drink  ale  and  smoke 
tobacco.  Doctor  Johnson  found  that  when  at  Pem- 
broke College  he  could  attend  lectures  or  stay  away, 
as  he  liked,  and  that  his  gain  was  about  the  same  either 
way.  The  poet  Gray  committed  himself  to  the  opinion 
that  Cambridge  must  be  the  place  once  called  Babylon, 
of  which  the  prophet  said  the  "wild  beasts  of  the  desert 
shall  lie  there;  and  their  houses  shall  be  full  of  doleful 
creatures;  and  owls  shall  dwell  there,  and  satyrs  shall 
dance  there";  and  "the  forts  and  towers  shall  be  for 
dens  forever,  a  joy  of  wild  asses."  Just  at  this  time 
Gibbon  had  completed  the  period  of  residence  at 
Magdalen  College  which  he  afterward  described  as 
the  most  idle  and  unprofitable  of  his  whole  life.  These 
harsh  judgments  are  supported  by  the  historian  of 
Oxford,  Warden  Brodrick,  who  says  explicitly  that  at 
this  period  the  nation  had  lost  confidence  in  Oxford 
education. 

It  was  into  a  world  of  knowledge  and  thought  to- 
tally different  from  ours  that  King's  College  was  born 
a  century  and  a  half  ago. 


22  FROM  KING'S  COLLEGE 

These  provinces  were  remote  in  those  days,  and  their 
settlers  were  chiefly  bent  upon  material  development 
and  upbuilding.  For  the  journey  across  the  Atlantic 
to  consume  from  four  to  six  weeks  was  not  unusual. 
Learning  was  of  necessity  at  a  low  ebb,  for  the  schol- 
arly men  who  were  among  the  first  settlers  had  passed 
away,  and  their  children  and  grandchildren,  born  in 
the  colonies  and  reared  there,  had  not  much  chance 
for  a  broad  or  a  prolonged  education.  Harvard  Col- 
lege had  been  in  existence  for  a  century  and  a  quarter, 
and  Yale  for  half  a  century,  but  both  were  hard-pressed 
for  means  of  subsistence,  and  their  intellectual  outlook 
was  a  contracted  one.  Jonathan  Edwards  had  written, 
a  few  years  earlier,  that  he  took  "very  great  content" 
from  his  instruction  at  Yale,  and  that  the  rest  of  the 
scholars  did  likewise.  The  College  of  New  Jersey  had 
recently  begun  instruction  at  Elizabethtown,  and  just 
as  King's  College  opened  its  doors  ground  was  break- 
ing at  Princeton  for  the  first  building  of  its  permanent 
home.  In  Philadelphia  Franklin  was  urging  on  the 
movement  that  was  soon  to  give  a  college  to  that 
prosperous  city,  and  throughout  the  colonies  generally 
the  need  for  a  higher  type  of  education  was  felt  and 
efforts  were  making  to  supply  it. 

Then,  as  now,  New  York  was  often  described  as  a 
city  given  over  to  trade  and  commerce  to  the  neglect 
of  higher  and  better  things,  but  there  is  evidence  that 
while  the  citizens  were  gaining  the  material  substance 
with  which  to  support  a  college,  they  were  not  neg- 
lectful of  the  fact  that  a  college  was  sorely  needed 


TO  COLUMBIA    UNIVERSITY  23 

among  them.  For  fully  fifty  years  the  idea  of  a  col- 
lege for  the  province  of  New  York  had  been  mooted, 
and  general  sentiment  was  favorable  to  it;  but  it  was 
not  until  1746  that  the  first  step  was  taken  to  bring 
about  the  desired  end.  On  December  6  of  that  year 
the  legislature  of  the  colony  passed  an  act  authorizing 
the  raising  of  the  sum  of  £250  by  public  lottery  "for 
the  advancement  of  learning  and  towards  the  found- 
ing of  a  college."  The  preamble  of  this  act  clearly 
shows  that  there  was  a  wide-spread  conviction  that 
the  welfare  and  reputation  of  the  colony  would  be  pro- 
moted by  laying  a  proper  and  ample  foundation  for 
the  regular  education  of  youth.  Other  similar  acts 
followed,  and  by  1752  nearly  £3,500  had  been  raised 
by  lottery  for  erecting  a  college.  We  smile  now  at  the 
thought  of  supporting  education  through  lotteries,  but 
the  practice  was  quite  common  in  those  days.  In- 
deed, the  lottery,  which  appears  to  have  been  a  Floren- 
tine invention  of  some  two  hundred  years  earlier,  had 
been  invoked  by  Parliament  the  very  year  before  that 
in  which  the  charter  of  King's  College  was  granted,  in 
order  to  endow  the  British  Museum.  To  purchase  the 
Sloane  collection,  the  Harleian  manuscripts,  and  the 
Cottonian  library,  which  collections  formed  the  be- 
ginning of  the  British  Museum,  and  to  put  the  new 
institution  upon  its  feet,  the  sum  of  £300,000  was  au- 
thorized to  be  raised  by  public  lottery. 

The  sum  of  £3,500,  or  thereabouts,  raised  by  lottery 
for  the  college,  was  vested  in  trustees  who  were  em- 
powered to  manage  it,  to  accept  additional  contribu- 


24  FROM  KING'S  COLLEGE 

tions,  and  receive  proposals  from  any  city  or  county 
within  the  colony  desirous  of  having  the  college  erected 
therein.  On  May  20,  1754,  these  trustees,  through 
William  Livingston,  one  of  their  number,  petitioned 
the  lieutenant-governor,  James  De  Lancey — the  un- 
happy Governor  Osborn  having  taken  his  own  life, 
and  no  successor  being  yet  appointed — to  grant  a 
charter  of  incorporation,  either  to  them  or  to  such  other 
trustees  as  might  be  chosen,  "the  better  to  enable 
them  to  prosecute  the  said  design  of  establishing  a 
seminary  or  college  for  the  instruction  of  youth." 
This  petition  also  recited  the  fact  that  additional  sup- 
port had  been  found  for  the  proposed  college,  in  that 
"the  Rector  and  inhabitants  of  the  City  of  New  York, 
in  communion  with  the  Church  of  England,  as  by  law 
established,  being  willing  to  encourage  the  said  good 
design  of  establishing  a  seminary  or  college  for  the 
education  of  youth  in  the  liberal  arts  or  sciences,  have 
offered  unto  your  petitioners  a  very  valuable  parcel 
of  ground  on  the  west  side  of  Broadway,  in  the  west 
ward  of  the  City  of  New  York,  for  the  use  of  the  said 
intended  seminary  or  college,  and  are  ready  and  de- 
sirous to  convey  the  said  lands  for  the  said  use,  on 
condition  that  the  head  or  master  of  the  said  seminary 
or  college  be  a  member  of  and  in  communion  with  the 
Church  of  England  as  by  law  established,  and  that  the 
liturgy  of  the  said  church,  or  a  collection  of  prayers 
out  of  the  said  liturgy,  be  the  constant  morning  and 
evening  service  used  in  the  said  college  forever."  The 
petitioners  obviously  favored  the  acceptance  of  the 


TO  COLUMBIA    UNIVERSITY  25 

conditions  attached  to  the  proposed  grant,  for  they 
went  on  to  say  that  they  considered  the  site  proposed 
to  be  "the  most  proper  place  for  erecting  the  said 
seminary  or  college."  This  ground  was  part  of  the 
well-known  King's  Farm,  which  had  evidently  long 
been  in  mind  as  the  site  of  the  college  of  the  province. 
For  as  early  as  1703  the  vestry  of  Trinity  Church, 
before  putting  the  farm  out  on  lease,  appointed  the 
rector  and  churchwardens  to  wait  upon  Lord  Corn- 
bury,  then  governor,  in  order  to  learn  what  part  of 
the  farm  he  designed  to  use  for  the  college  which  he 
(Cornbury)  planned.  It  was  March  5,  1752,  when  the 
vestry  made  the  formal  proposal  to  the  commissioners 
appointed  to  receive  proposals  for  the  building  of  a 
college,  and  thereafter  matters  progressed  speedily. 

On  October  31,  1754,  James  De  Lancey,  lieutenant- 
governor  and  commander-in-chief  of  the  province  of 
New  York,  signed  the  charter  and  attached  thereto 
the  great  seal  of  the  province.  King's  College  "for 
the  instruction  and  education  of  youth  in  the  learned 
languages  and  liberal  arts  and  sciences"  was  legally 
born.  It  is  that  act  which  we  joyfully  celebrate  to-day. 

It  would  not  be  profitable  now  to  dwell  upon  the 
long  and  heated  controversy  that  accompanied  the 
foundation  of  the  college.  The  seeds  of  the  coming 
Revolution  had  already  been  sown,  and  in  matters 
civil  and  ecclesiastical  there  were  sharp  differences  of 
opinion  among  the  colonists.  On  one  hand  it  was  felt 
that  the  conditions  attached  to  the  grant  of  land  from 
Trinity  Church  were  an  unwarranted  attempt  to  make 


26  FROM  KING'S  COLLEGE 

the  new  college  of  the  province  a  sectarian  institu- 
tion, and  that  the  charter  should  have  come  from  the 
assembly  rather  than  from  the  king.  In  reply  it  was 
urged  that  no  conditions  were  thought  of  by  Trinity 
Church  until  ground  had  been  given  for  the  belief 
that  there  was  an  intention  to  erect  a  college  that 
should  have  no  religious  associations  whatever;  and 
that  then  only  those  conditions  were  imposed  which, 
liberally  interpreted,  would  assure  to  the  college  a 
Christian,  but  by  no  means  a  sectarian,  relationship 
and  influence.  The  history  of  the  college  fully  bears 
out  this  view.  As  to  the  origin  of  the  charter,  it  may 
well  be  that  the  trustees  of  the  original  fund  raised  by 
lottery,  subsequently  increased  by  a  grant  from  the 
excise  moneys,  were  moved  to  petition  the  lieutenant- 
governor  rather  than  the  assembly  for  a  charter, 
just  because  of  the  acrimony  of  the  existing  contro- 
versy and  the  fear  of  its  results.  However  this  may 
be,  the  charter  itself  is  a  striking  paper  and  one  that 
represents  a  point  of  view  and  a  liberality  of  mind  far 
in  advance  of  its  time. 

The  charter  makes  express  mention  of  the  fact  that 
the  college  is  founded  not  alone  for  the  inhabitants  of 
the  province  of  New  York,  but  for  those  of  all  the 
colonies  and  territories  in  America  as  well.  Here,  in 
foresight  and  in  prophecy,  is  the  national  university 
that  Columbia  has  since  become.  The  charter  as- 
sumes a  public  responsibility  for  the  new  college  by 
naming  as  trustees,  ex-offiriis,  a  number  of  representa- 
tive public  officials.  Here,  in  foresight  and  in  prophecy, 


TO  COLUMBIA    UNIVERSITY  27 

is  the  close  relationship  between  the  city  and  the  col- 
lege which  has  existed  from  that  day  to  this,  the  more 
helpful  in  recent  times  because  unofficial.  The 
charter  assures  the  liberality  of  the  college  in  matters 
ecclesiastical  and  religious  by  designating  as  trustees, 
ex-officiis,  the  rector  of  Trinity  Church,  the  senior 
minister  of  the  Reformed  Protestant  Dutch  Church, 
the  minister  of  the  ancient  Lutheran  Church,  the 
minister  of  the  French  Church,  and  the  minister  of  the 
Presbyterian  congregation.  The  very  next  year  the 
governors  of  the  college  united  in  a  petition,  which 
was  granted,  asking  for  power  to  establish  a  chair  of 
divinity,  the  right  to  nomination  for  which  should  lie 
in  the  minister,  elders,  and  deacons  of  the  Reformed 
Protestant  Dutch  Church  of  the  city.  Here,  in  fore- 
sight and  in  prophecy,  is  that  respect  and  regard  for 
the  Christian  religion,  and  that  catholicity  of  temper 
and  tolerance  of  mind,  which  mark  Columbia  Univer- 
sity of  this  later  day.  The  charter  expressly  provides 
that  no  law  or  statute  shall  be  made  by  the  trustees 
which  tends  to  exclude  any  person  of  any  religious  de- 
nomination whatever  from  equal  liberty  and  advantage 
of  education,  or  from  any  of  the  degrees,  liberties, 
privileges,  benefits,  or  immunities  of  the  college  on 
account  of  his  particular  tenets  in  matters  of  religion. 
Here,  in  foresight  and  in  prophecy,  is  this  splendid 
company  of  scholars  and  of  students  in  which  every 
part  of  the  civilized  world  and  every  variety  of  re- 
ligious faith  are  represented,  all  without  prejudice. 
This  was  a  notable  charter  to  be  granted  at  a  time 


28  FROM  KING'S  COLLEGE 

of  bitter  religious  controversy  and  prevailing  narrow- 
ness of  vision,  and  the  steps  taken  under  it  were  worthy 
of  its  far-reaching  provisions.  The  presidency  was 
tendered  to  Samuel  Johnson,  one  of  the  most  remark- 
able men  of  his  time;  and  it  was  he  who  gave  to  the 
new  college  its  educational  form,  its  controlling  ten- 
dencies, and  its  first  ideals.  Open-minded  and  catholic, 
Doctor  Johnson  was  the  most  scholarly  American  of 
the  period,  and  with  Jonathan  Edwards  he  takes  rank 
as  one  of  the  two  really  powerful  and  constructive 
American  philosophers  of  the  eighteenth  century. 
Benjamin  Franklin,  who  had  been  his  publisher,  con- 
sulted with  him  as  to  the  plans  for  the  projected  col- 
lege at  Philadelphia,  and  urged  him  to  become  its  head. 
But  Johnson  was  more  strongly  drawn  toward  New 
York,  in  whose  projects  for  a  college  he  had  long  been 
an  interested  counsellor,  and  for  which  his  friend  and 
philosophical  preceptor,  Bishop  Berkeley,  had  fed  the 
flame  of  his  enthusiasm. 

Doctor  Johnson,  sole  lecturer,  began  instruction  in 
the  month  of  July,  1754,  some  time  before  the  charter 
was  granted,  in  the  vestry-room  of  the  schoolhouse 
adjoining  Trinity  Church,  of  which  the  temporary  use 
had  been  allowed  him.  The  requirements  for  admis- 
sion to  his  first  class  were  simple:  the  first  five  rules  in 
arithmetic,  a  knowledge  of  the  Latin  and  Greek  gram- 
mars, and  an  ability  to  write  grammatical  Latin; 
ability  to  read  Cicero  and  the  first  books  of  the  ^Eneid, 
and  some  of  the  first  chapters  of  the  Gospel  of  St. 
John  in  Greek.  A  warning  was  at  the  same  time  given 


TO  COLUMBIA   UNIVERSITY  29 

that  higher  qualifications  would  soon  be  exacted. 
Considering  the  state  of  opinion  and  the  practice  else- 
where, this  declaration  by  President  Johnson  is  remark- 
able: "That  people  may  be  better  satisfied  in  sending 
their  children  for  education  to  this  college,  it  is  to  be 
understood  that,  as  to  religion,  there  is  no  intention 
to  impose  upon  the  scholars  the  peculiar  tenets  of  any 
particular  set  of  Christians,  but  to  inculcate  upon 
their  tender  minds  the  great  principles  of  Christianity 
and  morality  in  which  true  Christians  of  each  de- 
nomination are  generally  agreed."  So  broad  a  toler- 
ance as  this  is  more  usually  associated  with  the  end 
of  the  nineteenth  century  than  with  the  middle  of  the 
eighteenth. 

Moreover,  this  first  president  had  a  distinct  vision 
of  what  was  to  follow  from  his  small  and  modest  be- 
ginnings; for  he  pictured  the  future  in  these  words: 
"It  is  further  the  design  of  this  College  to  instruct 
and  perfect  youth  in  the  learned  languages,  and  in  the 
arts  of  reasoning  exactly,  of  writing  correctly  and 
speaking  eloquently,  and  in  the  arts  of  numbering  and 
measuring,  of  surveying  and  navigation,  of  geography 
and  history,  of  husbandry,  commerce  and  government; 
and  in  the  knowledge  of  all  nature  in  the  heavens  above 
us,  and  in  the  air,  water  and  earth  around  us,  and  in 
the  various  kinds  of  meteors,  stones,  mines  and  min- 
erals, plants  and  animals,  and  of  everything  useful 
for  the  comfort,  the  convenience  and  the  elegance  of 
life  in  the  chief  manufactures;  finally  to  lead  them 
from  the  study  of  nature  to  the  knowledge  of  them- 


3° 

selves,  and  of  the  God  of  nature,  their  duty  to  him, 
themselves  and  one  another."  The  felicity  of  phrase 
in  this  proclamation  is  not  more  remarkable  than  the 
clear  recognition  of  the  part  to  be  played  in  education 
by  the  sciences  of  nature  and  their  applications.  Here 
spoke  the  mind  stirred  by  the  reading  of  Bacon  and 
Newton,  of  Locke  and  Berkeley.  The  new  science  and 
the  new  philosophy  were  bearing  their  first-fruits  here 
on  this  island,  remote  from  the  capitals  of  the  world's 
affairs  and  far  distant  from  the  historic  seats  of  the 
older  learning. 

On  July  17  President  Johnson,  sole  instructor,  met 
his  group  of  eight  students.  Bayard,  Bloomer,  Van 
Cortlandt,  Cruger,  Marston,  Provoost,  Ritzema,  and 
Verplanck  were  the  families  represented  on  those 
slender  benches.  Good  names  all,  some  of  them  bearers 
of  the  sturdiest  traditions  of  our  city.  Others  fol- 
lowed, and  it  was  not  many  years  before  the  college 
roll  was  rich  with  the  best  names  of  old  New  York. 
There  were  Auchmuty,  Barclay,  Beekman,  Bogert, 
Cutting,  De  Lancey,  De  Peyster,  Griswold,  Hoffman, 
Jay,  Lispenard,  Livingston,  Morris,  Nicholl,  Pell, 
Philipse,  Remsen,  Romeyn,  Roosevelt,  Rutgers,  Schuy- 
ler,  Stevens,  Townsend,  Van  Buren,  and  Watt — names 
which  for  generations  have  been  in  close  and  honorable 
association  with  the  commerce,  the  society,  and  the 
politics  of  New  York.  Mr.  Henry  Adams  is  authority 
for  the  statements  that  before  1800  New  York  excelled 
New  England  in  scientific  work  accomplished,  and  that 
New  York  was  always  an  innovating  influence.  Study 


TO  COLUMBIA    UNIVERSITY  31 

of  the  early  history  of  our  college  and  comparison  of 
its  professed  aims  and  its  outlook  with  those  of  the 
older  institutions  to  the  east  and  to  the  south  justify 
his  conclusions.  And,  slow  as  its  development  was  in 
many  ways,  the  history  of  Columbia  College  proves 
conclusively  that  it  had  always  been  an  innovator  and 
a  leader.  Its  wise  and  far-sighted  policies,  more  or  less 
clearly  formulated  in  detail,  were  for  generations  held 
back  from  execution  only  by  lack  of  means.  From 
the  very  beginning,  though  often  with  stumblings  and 
delay,  Columbia  has  trod  the 

"Path  to  a  clear-purposed  goal, 
Path  of  advance!" 

Our  earlier  teachers,  like  our  later  ones,  were  chosen 
for  scholarship  and  character,  wherever  they  were  to 
be  found.  William  Johnson,  first  tutor,  came,  as  did 
his  father,  the  president,  from  Yale.  Leonard  Cutting, 
who  followed,  was  educated  at  Eton  and  Cambridge. 
Daniel  Treadwell,  first  professor  of  mathematics,  came, 
in  1757,  from  Harvard,  and  his  successor,  Harpur, 
from  Glasgow.  Myles  Cooper  was  trained  at  Queen's 
College,  Oxford,  and  Clossy,  whose  chair  included  the 
whole  of  natural  science,  at  Trinity  College,  Dublin. 
Different  view-points  and  varied  associations  helped 
make  this  company  of  early  teachers  cosmopolitan 
and  open-minded. 

The  list  of  twelve  presidents  is  unique  in  more  than 
one  respect.  The  two  Johnsons  and  Barnard  were 
graduates  of  Yale;  Cooper  came  from  Oxford;  Wharton 


32  FROM  KING'S  COLLEGE 

was  trained  at  the  English  Jesuits'  College  of  St. 
Omer,  and  was  ordained  a  priest  of  the  Roman  Cath- 
olic Church;  the  first  Moore  held  his  degree  from 
King's  College,  the  second  Moore  and  his  two  suc- 
cessors, now  living,  had  theirs  from  Columbia;  Harris 
was  educated  at  Harvard;  Duer  at  Winchester  in  the 
mother  country  and  at  Erasmus  Hall  on  Long  Island, 
and  King  at  Harrow  and  Paris.  The  younger  Johnson, 
who  came  to  the  presidency  in  1787,  was  a  layman, 
the  first  lay  head  of  a  college  among  English-speaking 
people  of  whom  I  find  record;  Duer,  the  second  Moore, 
and  King  were  also  laymen,  as  was  Barnard  to  all  in- 
tents and  purposes  (though  he  took  orders  as  an  aid 
to  his  work  in  education  and  with  no  intention  of  en- 
gaging in  parochial  work),  and  as  are  the  two  presi- 
dents now  living.  Only  Harris  and  Barnard  died  in 
office.  The  second  Johnson  and  Duer  were  lawyers; 
the  second  Moore  divided  his  energies  between  law 
and  teaching;  King  was  a  merchant  and  editor,  and 
Barnard  was  an  educator  in  the  fullest  and  highest 
sense  of  the  word.  Columbia,  it  will  be  seen,  broke 
early  with  existing  traditions,  and  the  progressiveness 
and  catholicity  shown  alike  by  the  governing  board 
and  the  teaching  body  were  reflected  in  movements 
for  educational  advance  that  are  as  noteworthy  as 
some  of  them  are  now  seen  to  have  been  premature. 
The  early  and  vigorous  attention  to  the  natural 
sciences  under  the  lead  of  Clossy,  Bard,  Mitchill,  and 
Hosack,  the  deep  interest  in  public  affairs  and  partici- 
pation in  them,  which  took  the  second  Johnson  to  the 


TO  COLUMBIA    UNIVERSITY  33 

Constitutional  Convention  and  then  to  the  Senate  of 
the  United  States,  while  still  president,  and  Professor 
Mitchill  to  the  legislature,  to  the  House  of  Represen- 
tatives, and  to  the  Senate;  the  solicitous  care  for  public 
education  which  spurred  on  De  Witt  Clinton,  Henry 
Rutgers,  and  Peter  A.  Jay  to  lead  the  work  of  the  Public 
School  Society  of  the  city  of  New  York  and  so  pave 
the  way  for  the  present  municipal  school  system,  were 
all  prophetic  of  that  zeal  for  scientific  advance,  for  the 
public  service,  and  for  the  education  of  the  people 
which  so  strongly  mark  the  Columbia  of  to-day. 

Given  so  large  a  company  of  progressive  men  of 
science  and  of  affairs,  so  noble  a  society  of  scholars, 
and  so  commanding  a  situation  in  this  rapidly  develop- 
ing city,  was  not  Columbia  College  unduly  slow  in 
reaching  the  plane  of  excellence  and  the  wide  scope  of 
activity  which  were  marked  out  for  it  from  the  very 
beginning  ?  It  certainly  was,  and  the  cause  was  grind- 
ing poverty. 

The  trustees  of  half  a  century  ago  had  been  facing 
problems  which  might  well  have  staggered  the  bravest 
of  them.  It  is  more  than  twenty  years  since  President 
Barnard,  whose  eager  and  far-sighted  plans  for  Co- 
lumbia were  hemmed  in  on  every  side  by  lack  of  funds 
with  which  to  carry  them  out,  reviewed  the  financial 
history  of  the  corporation  and  made  it  plain  what  the 
source  of  embarrassment  and  delay  had  been. 

It  is  literally  true  that  for  a  full  century  the  college 
had  to  struggle  for  its  life.  The  amount  raised  by 
lottery,  increased  somewhat  by  small  legislative  grants, 


34  FROM  KING'S  COLLEGE 

appears  to  have  been  spent  upon  the  first  building  and 
in  the  purchase  of  those  materials  that  were  neces- 
sary to  the  institution's  work.  The  portion  of  the 
King's  Farm  granted  by  Trinity  Church  was  valued 
at  £4,000  or  £5,000,  but  it  lay  beyond  the  limits  of  the 
inhabited  portion  of  the  island,  and  was  for  many 
years  unproductive.  It  did,  however,  afford  a  com- 
modious and  convenient  home  for  the  college.  The 
need  for  additional  resources  was  early  felt,  and  the 
royal  governor  of  the  province  was  appealed  to  for  a 
grant  of  public  land  to  the  trustees.  In  response,  a 
large  tract  of  24,000  acres,  "comprising  the  township 
of  Kingsland,  in  the  County  of  Gloucester,  in  the 
Province  of  New  York,"  was  conveyed  to  the  trustees 
by  letters  patent  in  1770.  Subsequently,  however,  in 
the  settlement  of  the  disputed  boundary  between 
New  York  and  New  Hampshire,  this  land,  as  well  as 
30,000  acres  granted,  in  1774,  by  Governor  Tryon, 
was  found  to  belong  to  what  is  now  the  State  of  Ver- 
mont, and  it  passed  from  the  trustees  without  com- 
pensation. Gifts  were  few  and  small  for  many  years, 
for  the  troubled  times  in  the  colonies  were  naturally 
not  favorable  to  endowments  for  learning.  Occasional 
legislative  grants  of  small  sums  were  rather  an  evidence 
of  public  interest  in  the  college  than  serious  attempts 
to  upbuild  it.  Finally,  in  1814,  came  the  action  which, 
through  the  courage  and  far-sightedness  of  the  trus- 
tees, has  meant  so  much  to  us.  Upon  a  petition  of  the 
trustees  setting  forth  that  the  extensive  lands  granted 
by  earlier  governors  had  been  lost  to  the  college, 


TO  COLUMBIA   UNIVERSITY  35 

without  compensation,  in  the  settlement  of  the  bound- 
ary dispute,  the  legislature  granted  to  the  college  the 
so-called  Hosack  Botanic  Garden,  comprising  the  land 
in  the  city  of  New  York  now  bounded  by  Fifth  Ave- 
nue on  the  east,  by  Forty-seventh  Street  on  the  south, 
by  Fifty-first  Street  on  the  north,  and  by  a  line  dis- 
tant about  100  feet  from  the  easterly  line  of  Sixth  Ave- 
nue on  the  west,  260  city  lots  in  all,  then  valued  at 
$75,000.  David  Hosack,  whose  name  this  property 
bore  and  who  had  conveyed  it  to  the  State  for  a  bo- 
tanic garden,  had  been  professor  of  botany  in  Columbia 
College  from  1795  to  1811,  and  was  a  man  of  marked 
distinction  in  his  day. 

Therefore,  the  two  historic  endowments  of  the 
college  which  in  these  later  days  have  become,  through 
the  growth  and  prosperity  of  the  city,  the  main  sup- 
port of  its  rapidly  expanding  work,  are  gifts,  the  one 
from  the  church  and  the  other  from  the  state,  to  the 
upbuilding  and  defense  of  both  of  which  the  college 
has  bent  its  every  energy  from  the  day  of  its  founda- 
tion. In  the  King's  Farm,  or  lower  estate,  and  in  the 
Hosack  Botanic  Garden,  or  upper  estate,  Columbia 
now  holds  tangible  evidence  of  what  religion  and  civil 
government  have  done  for  learning  in  this  commu- 
nity, and  it  gratefully  acknowledges  its  heavy  obliga- 
tion to  them  both. 

But,  splendid  as  the  future  of  these  properties  was 
to  be,  they  were  not  a  source  of  immediate  income. 
Quite  the  contrary;  the  cost  of  holding  the  property 
and  of  meeting  the  public  charges  upon  it  was  an  al- 


36  FROM  KING'S  COLLEGE 

most  intolerable  burden.  In  1805  the  income  from  the 
portion  of  the  lower  estate  under  lease  was  only  about 
$1,400.  Deficits  faced  the  trustees  with  the  closing  of 
each  annual  account.  Still  they  struggled  on,  having 
firm  and  clear  faith  in  the  future  of  the  city  and  in  the 
triumph  of  the  high  ideals  committed  to  their  keeping. 
The  strong  men  who  fought  the  fight  during  the  long 
period  of  discouragement  from  1810  to  1870 — Rufus 
King  and  David  B.  Ogden,  William  Johnson  and 
Beverly  Robinson,  Philip  Hone  and  Samuel  B.  Rug- 
gles,  William  Betts  and  Hamilton  Fish,  and  their  as- 
sociates— they  are  those  who  saved  this  university  for 
the  twentieth  century.  It  was  1863  before  the  slowly 
increasing  income  was  sufficient  to  meet  the  cost  of 
annual  maintenance,  and  it  was  1872  before  the  ac- 
cumulated debt  was  wiped  out.  From  that  time  begins 
a  new  chapter  in  the  financial  history  of  the  corpora- 
tion, a  chapter  which  extends  to  the  removal  to  the 
new  home  on  Morningside  Heights  with  its  rapidly 
crowding  opportunities  and  its  heavy  attendant  re- 
sponsibilities. It  is  plain,  therefore,  that  the  bare 
struggle  for  existence  postponed  almost  to  our  own 
day  that  widening  of  influence  and  of  scope,  and  that 
increase  of  activity,  which  had  been  part  of  the  plan 
of  the  college  from  its  earliest  days. 

"Debt,"  wrote  President  Barnard  truly,  "is  no 
doubt  a  great  evil,  but  there  are  evils  worse  than  debt, 
and  among  these  is  stagnation."  Columbia  long  bore 
the  burden  of  debt  and  chafed  in  its  heavy  chains,  but 
it  is  not  true  that  it  has  ever  been  stagnant.  At  no 


TO  COLUMBIA    UNIVERSITY  37 

time  has  it  been  without  men  whose  scholarship  and 
whose  patriotic  service  in  moulding  the  institutions  and 
the  public  opinion  of  our  young  democracy,  put  them 
in  the  front  rank  of  a  university's  heroes.  The  first 
Johnson  was  easily  the  most  scholarly  man  in  the 
colonies,  and  in  philosophy  a  vigorous  and  progressive 
mind.  The  erudite  Bard  had  no  superior  as  a  physician, 
and  is  gratefully  remembered  as  sounding  the  call 
which  brought  into  existence  the  Society  of  the  New 
York  Hospital.  The  second  Johnson  was  fit  com- 
panion to  the  noble  company  with  whom  he  sat  in  the 
Constitutional  Convention;  it  was  he  who  proposed 
that  the  States  should  be  equally  represented,  as  States, 
in  the  Senate  of  the  United  States,  and  who,  as  chair- 
man of  the  committee  appointed  to  revise  the  style  of 
the  Constitution  and  arrange  its  articles,  did  much  to 
give  that  instrument  its  familiar  and  admired  form. 
With  him  in  that  noteworthy  committee  of  five  sat 
Alexander  Hamilton  of  the  Class  of  1774  and  Gouver- 
neur  Morris  of  the  Class  of  1768.  Later,  as  senator 
from  Connecticut  while  still  president  of  the  college, 
Johnson  was  a  chief  agent  in  framing  the  bill  to  or- 
ganize the  judiciary  of  the  United  States.  Our  own 
Hewitt  has  pointed  out  that  it  was  De  Witt  Clinton, 
of  1786,  who  created  the  Erie  Canal  by  which  the 
wealth  of  the  great  West  was  opened  up  and  poured 
into  the  lap  of  New  York;  that  it  was  Robert  R.  Liv- 
ingston, of  1765,  who  recognized  the  genius  of  Fulton 
and  supplied  the  means  to  make  steam  navigation  a 
success,  and  that  it  was  John  Stevens,  of  1768,  who 


38  FROM  KING'S  COLLEGE 

gave  us  the  railway  and  the  screw  propeller,  revolution- 
izing transportation  by  land  and  sea.  But  for  Living- 
ston there  would  doubtless  have  been  no  Louisiana 
Purchase,  and  our  nation's  history  might  have  been 
strangely  different;  and  it  was  Mitchill  who  in  the 
legislative  branch  gave  effective  support  to  Jefferson's 
plan  to  send  Lewis  and  Clark  across  the  undiscovered 
mountains  and  to  open  for  settlement  the  noble  lands 
"where  rolls  the  Oregon."  Kent,  fit  successor  of 
Bracton,  Littleton,  and  Coke,  not  only  taught  stu- 
dents, but  trained  the  public  mind  to  an  appreciation 
of  the  fundamental  concepts  of  American  law.  Mitch- 
ill,  in  his  chair  of  natural  history  and  chemistry, 
was  a  fellow  investigator  with  Lavoisier  and  Priestley, 
and  passing  to  the  House  of  Representatives  and  to 
the  Senate,  he  was  as  serviceable  to  the  state  as  to 
science.  Hosack  was  an  influential  figure  in  the  early 
development  of  botanical  and  medical  science.  Adrain, 
a  prince  among  mathematicians,  preceded  Gauss, 
Laplace,  and  Herschel  in  his  research  concerning  the 
probabilities  of  error  which  happen  in  making  obser- 
vations. McVickar,  versatile  and  powerful,  was  one 
of  the  earliest  American  economists,  the  incumbent  at 
Columbia  of  the  first  chair  of  political  economy  of  the 
United  States,  and  may  fairly  be  claimed  as  the  for- 
mulator  of  the  principles  upon  which  our  national 
banking  system  rests.  To  Anderson  and  Davies  mathe- 
matical teaching  in  America  owes  a  debt  which  it  is 
glad  to  acknowledge,  and  it  was  Davies  who,  by  his 
text-books,  familiarized  American  teachers  and  stu- 


TO  COLUMBIA   UNIVERSITY  39 

dents  with  the  methods  of  exposition  and  study  that 
had  gained  ground  so  largely  in  France.  Anthon's 
copious  stores  of  learning  were  freely  drawn  upon  for 
the  benefit  of  students  of  the  Greek  and  Latin  classics, 
and  it  was  he  who  first  made  known  in  America  the 
results  of  the  vast  researches  chiefly  by  German 
scholars  in  the  fields  of  classical  history,  philology,  and 
archaeology.  Lieber's  commanding  figure  and  pro- 
found learning  gave  added  weight  to  his  luminous  ex- 
position of  the  philosophy  of  history.  All  these  great 
men  lived  and  served  in  the  day  of  small  things,  and 
they  have  left  splendid  traditions  and  fortunate  mem- 
ories behind  them.  Not  once  in  the  long  years  of 
darkness  and  doubt,  of  difficulty  and  discouragement, 
was  the  college  without  commanding  personalities 
among  its  governors  and  its  teachers,  or  without 
worthy  youths  training  for  distinction  on  its  scholars' 
benches. 

From  the  day  of  its  foundation  our  college  was 
marked  to  become  a  great  university.  It  had  from  its 
earliest  beginnings  no  small  or  restricted  conception  of 
its  mighty  mission.  It  hailed  its  home  in  New  York 
as  a  vantage-seat  from  which  to  influence  the  nation 
that  lay  behind  and  beyond.  It  was  filled  with  plans 
for  expansion  and  development  that  must  have  seemed 
strange  enough  to  those  who  were  content  to  plod 
along  in  the  well-trodden  path  of  the  traditional  col- 
lege education  of  the  day.  From  Doctor  Johnson's 
first  advertisement  in  1754  to  the  academic  legislation 
of  most  recent  years,  Columbia  has  had  a  university's 


40  FROM  KING'S  COLLEGE 

ideals  in  view  and  has  struggled  earnestly  toward  their 
realization. 

Instruction  in  divinity  was  planned  as  early  as  1755, 
that  in  medicine  was  begun  in  1763,  and  that  in  law 
in  1773.  After  the  Revolution,  when  the  name  Colum- 
bia supplanted  that  of  King's,  the  governors  immedi- 
ately voted  to  establish  the  four  familiar  university 
faculties  of  arts,  medicine,  law,  and  divinity.  Hardly 
a  decade  has  passed  from  that  time  to  this  when  some 
ambitious  spirit,  either  in  the  governing  board  or  in 
the  faculties,  has  not  urged  projects  of  expansion  and 
advance.  Most  remarkable  is  the  extraordinary  scheme 
for  a  charter  establishing  "the  American  university  in 
the  province  of  New  York,"  which  was  drafted  at  the 
express  command  of  the  governors  of  King's  College, 
and  which  met  with  their  formal  approval  on  August 
4,  1774.  It  contemplated  a  great  institution  composed 
of  many  parts,  after  the  fashion  of  the  French  uni- 
versity organization  completed  by  Napoleon.  It  was 
to  confer  any  degree,  and  presumably,  therefore,  to 
give  any  instruction,  given  by  any  or  all  of  the  uni- 
versities in  England  or  Ireland.  Read  in  the  light  of 
its  date,  the  conception  was  an  astounding  one.  This 
draft  was  transmitted  to  England  and  by  command  of 
the  king  was  laid  before  him  in  council  in  April, 
1775.  With  the  record  of  that  act  the  history  of  this 
remarkable  document  ends.  Already  the  guns  of  Lex- 
ington and  Concord  were  loading,  and  the  urgent 
voices  calling  for  the  royal  approval  of  the  charter 
were  drowned  by  the  roar  of  the  shot  heard  round  the 


TO  COLUMBIA    UNIVERSITY  41 

world.  It  may  be  permitted,  however,  to  point  out 
that  no  company  of  men  given  over  solely  to  the  pur- 
suit of  material  well-being  and  the  sordid  accumulation 
of  wealth  could  ever  have  entertained  with  sympathy 
and  approval  the  noble  conception  of  a  great  national 
university  which  that  document  revealed. 

There  are  no  worthier  names  upon  our  college  roll 
than  those  of  the  men  who  from  time  to  time  urged 
projects  of  advancement  and  a  wider  growth.  The 
report  of  1784  was  presented  by  a  committee  on  which 
sat  James  Duane  and  Alexander  Hamilton,  John  H. 
Livingston  and  Samuel  Provoost,  Nicholas  Romaine 
and  Morgan  Lewis.  The  memorial  of  1810  addressed 
to  the  legislature  was  drafted  by  Doctor  Mason  and 
urges  that  the  trustees  had  been  for  some  time  "sedu- 
lously occupied  in  giving  to  the  whole  system  of  the 
college  that  improvement  of  which  they  are  persuaded 
it  is  capable,  and  which  when  completed  will  elevate 
it  to  a  rank  that  shall  subserve  the  prosperity  and  re- 
dound to  the  honor  of  the  State."  This  appeal  was 
itself  the  result  of  a  movement  which  had  been  begun 
two  years  earlier  by  the  appointment  of  a  committee  of 
the  strongest  men  on  the  board  "to  express  their  opin- 
ion generally  as  to  the  measures  proper  for  carrying 
into  full  effect  the  design  of  this  institution."  Again 
in  1830  a  far-reaching  plan  of  expansion  was  adopted. 
When  reported  to  the  trustees  it  bore  the  signatures  of 
Bishop  Hobart,  of  Doctor  Wainwright,  of  Doctor  On- 
derdonk,  of  Doctor  William  Johnson,  of  John  T.  Irving, 
of  Clement  C.  Moore,  and  of  Charles  King. 


42  FROM  KING'S  COLLEGE 

Once  more,  in  1852,  at  the  instance  of  President 
King,  another  movement  was  begun  to  develop  a  uni- 
versity upon  the  foundation  afforded  by  the  old  col- 
lege. Long  consideration  was  given  to  the  ways  and 
means  to  be  adopted,  and  finally,  in  1858,  the  elabo- 
rate plans  that  had  been  evolved  were  formally  ap- 
proved. William  Betts,  Henry  James  Anderson, 
Hamilton  Fish,  and  Samuel  B.  Ruggles  were  those 
most  largely  concerned  in  their  formulation.  From 
that  auspicious  movement  dates  the  beginning  of  the 
modern  history  of  Columbia.  No  year  has  passed 
since  the  reports  of  1854,  1857,  and  1858  were  sub- 
mitted without  some  step  forward  being  either  planned 
or  taken.  It  was  under  the  impulse  of  this  movement 
that  the  first  university  lectures  were  delivered;  that 
the  School  of  Law  was  definitely  organized;  that  the 
College  of  Physicians  and  Surgeons  was  brought  back 
to  the  university  to  occupy  the  traditional  place  of 
medicine  therein,  and  that  the  School  of  Mines  came 
into  being  to  lead  the  way  in  this  country  in  teaching 
the  applications  of  modern  science  to  a  group  of  its 
great  industries. 

/  With  the  accession  to  the  presidency  of  Barnard  in 
1864,  there  came  to  the  service  of  the  university  one 
of  the  greatest  figures,  in  many  ways  the  greatest  fig- 
ure, in  the  whole  history  of  our  American  education. 
His  active  and  restless  mind,  which  grew  neither  old 
nor  tired,  planned  unceasingly  and  saw  with  astound- 
ing clearness  of  vision.  Barnard  is  the  greatest  pro- 
phetic figure  in  the  history  of  modern  education.  He 


TO  COLUMBIA   UNIVERSITY  43 

first  saw  that  the  traditional  college  course  was  no 
longer  adequate  to  meet  the  needs  of  modern  youth; 
that  it  must  be  supplemented,  extended,  readjusted, 
and  made  more  elastic,  if  it  would  serve  under  new 
conditions  the  same  ends  that  it  had  served  so  well  in 
the  past.  He  exalted  science  and  scientific  research 
to  their  place  of  honor,  and  he  swept  with  his  keen 
vision  the  whole  field  of  education  and  called  upon  the 
university  to  enter  upon  it  as  a  subject  of  study  and  to 
treat  teaching  as  a  serious  profession  and  not  merely 
as  an  occupation.  He  gave  his  powerful  influence  to 
the  movement  for  the  opening  of  educational  oppor- 
tunities to  women,  and  he  felt  keenly  the  limitations 
under  which  they  suffered  in  his  day.  He  looked  out 
into  new  fields  of  inquiry  and  saw  the  significance  of 
those  studies  in  language,  in  archaeology,  in  history 
and  political  science,  in  the  physical  and  mathematical 
sciences,  in  experimental  medicine,  and  in  the  science 
of  life  that  are  now  gladly  included  in  the  wide  circle 
of  our  university's  care.  What  this  generation  has 
done  Barnard  planned  and  urged.  Much  of  what  re- 
mains for  the  next  generation  to  accomplish  he  fore- 
saw and  exhibited. 

One  may  be  permitted  to  doubt  whether,  in  the  whole 
history  of  higher  institutions  of  learning,  there  is  an- 
other example  of  so  consistent  and  steadfast  pursuit 
of  an  ideal  end  as  is  shown  in  the  history  of  the  de- 
velopment from  King's  College  to  Columbia  Univer- 
sity. Broad  scholarship,  catholic  sympathies,  the 
widest  scope,  all  have  marked  every  plan  proposed  for 


44  FROM  KING'S  COLLEGE 

adoption  by  the  governing  board.  Even  when  it 
seemed  impossible  to  sustain  the  academic  life,  men 
were  planning  not  only  to  sustain  it,  but  to  enlarge 
and  enrich  it.  Faith  in  this  city  and  in  this  nation, 
faith  in  science  and  in  philosophy,  faith  in  public  ser- 
vice and  in  lofty  ideals  has  been  the  very  life-blood  of 
our  college  and  university  for  the  whole  century  and 
a  half  that  has  gone. 

Twice  in  our  history  the  pursuing  city  has  driven  us 
from  our  home.  The  King's  Farm  seemed  far  away 
from  the  centre  of  the  small  town  of  1754.  The  Madi- 
son Avenue  grounds  were  indisputably  distant  even 
from  the  resident  section  of  1857.  But  so  rapid  have 
been  the  strides  of  this  metropolitan  community  that 
nothing  less  than  the  island's  crown  could  suffice  for 
Columbia's  permanent  need.  Here,  on  soil  where 
patriot  strove  and  where  nature  reveals  her  beauty  of 
rock  and  hill  and  stream,  our  university  has  made  its 
permanent  home  with  face  bent  upon  a  historic  past, 
but  eagerly  expecting  a  historic  future  as  well.  No 
more  will  it  seek  to  avoid  a  city's  embrace,  but  set 
upon  a  hill  where  its  light  cannot  be  hid,  it  will  be  to 
the  city  as  its  very  mind  and  soul.  Commerce  and 
finance  will  bring  to  New  York  physical  strength  and 
material  wealth  and  hold  high  the  symbols  of  com- 
mercial integrity.  Transportation  by  land  and  sea  and 
air  will  bring  the  travellers  of  the  earth  to  our  doors 
and  seekers  after  knowledge  from  its  remotest  parts  to 
these  academic  halls.  The  temples  of  religion  will 
testify  to  our  belief  in  God  and  his  worship,  and  the 


TO  COLUMBIA   UNIVERSITY  45 

institutions  of  philanthropy  to  man's  succoring  hand 
stretched  out  to  his  unfortunate  fellow.  Above, 
among,  and  about  them  will  be  the  influence  of  our 
university,  preserving  those  things  that  should  be  pre- 
served, discarding  those  things  that  are  found  to  be 
no  longer  true,  and  pursuing  those  things  that  are  of 
good  report.  To  this  height  shall  come  those  impulses 
of  need  which  the  city  sends  to  call  out  our  responding 
service.  From  this  height  shall  go  out  those  noble  in- 
fluences that  will  justify  the  struggles  of  the  fathers 
and  the  ample  plans  of  those  who  have  gone  before. 
Here  in  quiet  and  yet  in  activity,  apart  from  the  city 
and  yet  in  it,  shall  be  the  home  of  that  grateful  growth 
from  the  early  seed,  a  city's  mind  and  a  city's  soul. 


Ill 


From  the  Annual  Report  as  president  of  Columbia  University, 
October  6,  1902 


THE  UNIVERSITY  AND  THE  CITY 

The  whole  form  of  modern  university  development 
has  been  conditioned  by  the  growth  of  great  cities. 
The  life  of  the  modern  universities  is  becoming  more 
and  more  of  the  urban  type.  Each  of  the  world's  great 
capitals  which  is  or  aims  to  be  a  centre  of  influence  in 
the  largest  sense  of  the  word  must  and  will  be  the 
home  of  a  great  university.  That  university  will  be 
national,  or  even  international,  in  sympathy,  scope, 
and  influence.  But  it  will  be  dependent  in  a  large 
measure — when  not,  as  in  Europe,  a  governmental  in- 
stitution— upon  the  support  of  the  city  in  which  it  is. 

This  university  will  of  necessity  reflect  and  extend 
the  spirit  and  temper  of  that  city.  The  drift  of  popu- 
lation into  the  great  city  centres  is  paralleled  by  the 
rapid  growth  of  the  number  of  students  attending  the 
city  universities.  While  there  is  a  difference  of  opinion 
as  to  the  desirability  of  a  city  as  a  place  of  purely  col- 
legiate or  undergraduate  instruction,  there  is  no 
doubt  whatever  as  to  the  superiority  of  the  city's  op- 
portunities and  environment  as  a  place  of  graduate, 
professional,  and  technical  study.  The  history  of 
Columbia  College,  which  is  the  oldest  part  of  Colum- 
bia University,  and  in  a  sense  the  mother  of  all  the 
rest,  shows  clearly  that  during  the  past  ten  years  at 
any  rate  an  increasing  number  of  parents  in  every  part 

49 


50  THE  UNIVERSITY  AND  THE  CITY 

of  the  country  are  choosing  New  York  and  Columbia 
as  a  place  to  which  to  send  their  sons,  even  for  the  un- 
dergraduate period  of  study. 

The  reason  for  the  vast  and  rapid  development  of 
the  urban  university  is,  as  Cardinal  Newman  said  two 
generations  ago,  that  a  city  is  by  its  very  nature  a  uni- 
versity. It  draws  to  itself  men  and  women  of  all  types 
and  kinds,  it  is  the  home  of  great  collections  of  art  and 
science,  and  it  affords  abundant  opportunities  to  come 
under  the  influence  of  the  best  music  and  the  best 
literature  of  our  time. 

The  great  city,  and  especially  New  York,  is  intensely 
cosmopolitan,  and  contact  with  its  life  for  a  short  time 
during  the  impressionableness  of  youth  is  in  itself  a 
liberal  education.  Columbia  is  the  typical  urban  uni- 
versity, and  in  a  sense  the  most  national  of  all. Amer- 
ican institutions  of  higher  learning.  It  typifies  the 
earnestness,  the  strenuousness,  the  practicality,  and  the 
catholicity  of  New  York  City,  and  its  constituency  is 
drawn  from  every  part  of  the -nation.  The  tendency 
of  American  institutions  once  local  to  become  truly 
national  is  a  striking  characteristic  of  the  changes  of 
the  past  quarter  of  a  century.  Perhaps  no  other  Amer- 
ican university  has  profited  more  than  Columbia  by 
the  change,  and  perhaps  none  has  done  more  to  bring 
it  about. 

The  universities  at  Paris,  Berlin,  Vienna,  Munich, 
and  New  York  owe  their  leadership  to  the  fact  that 
they  are  intent  upon  research  and  the  training  of  pro- 
ductive scholars  on  the  one  hand,  and  upon  the  de- 


THE  UNIVERSITY  AND  THE  CITY  51 

velopment  and  support  of  the  highest  possible  pro- 
fessional training  on  the  other.  Each  of  these  insti- 
tutions is  proud  of  the  fact  that  its  faculty  includes  a 
number  of  the  unquestioned  leaders  in  the  world's 
science  and  the  world's  literature.  It  is  the  presence 
of  men  like  these  that  constitutes  a  real  university. 
And  it  is  upon  their  influence  and  example  that  the 
university  depends  for  its  present  and  future  useful- 
ness. 

The  problems  before  Columbia  University  at  the 
moment  are  twofold.  The  first  is  the  problem  which 
it  has  in  common  with  all  urban  universities,  namely, 
that  of  promoting  productive  scholarship  and  teaching 
efficiency.  The  second  is  the  problem  peculiar  to  a 
university  which  is  situated  in  New  York  and  which 
is,  and  aims  to  be,  representative  of  all  that  is  best  in 
the  traditions  and  ambitions  of  the  American  metrop- 
olis. This  latter  problem  is,  in  fact,  that  of  practical 
usefulness  to  the  community  and  of  effective  leader- 
ship in  all  that  concerns  good  citizenship  and  the  high- 
est personal  and  civic  ideas.  Columbia  aims  to  keep 
'  always  in  close  touch  with  the  community  of  which  it 
is  so  important  a  part.  Its  needs  are  enormous,  but 
the  capacity  of  New  York  to  meet  them  is  even  greater; 
and  we  rely  with  confidence  primarily  upon  the  gen- 
erous support  and  sympathy  of  the  great  city. 


IV 

THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  UNIVERSITY 


Address  at  the  dedication  of  the  State  Education  Building  at 
Albany,  New  York,  October  16,  1912 


THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  UNIVERSITY 

Mr.  Chancellory  Regentsy  Mr.  Commissioner,  Ladies 
and  Gentlemen : 

The  occasion  that  has  brought  together  this  dis- 
tinguished and  representative  assemblage  is  no  or- 
dinary one.  It  has  called  from  his  post  of  duty  across 
the  sea  the  American  ambassador  to  Great  Britain  in 
order  that  he  may  fill  his  distinguished  place  as  chan- 
cellor of  the  University  of  the  State  of  New  York.  It 
has  summoned  here  representatives  of  public  life,  of 
education,  and  of  institutions  of  learning  from  every 
part  of  our  land,  and  from  other  lands  as  well;  and  it 
has  called  forth  those  messages  of  congratulation  such 
as  the  commissioner  has  just  read  from  the  very  edge 
of  the  world's  latest  war  and  from  the  capital  city  of 
one  of  the  world's  most  heavily  oppressed  peoples. 

It  is  an  extraordinary  occasion,  and  it  is  not  to  be 
passed  by  with  a  mere  word  of  description  of  this  great 
building,  however  noble,  however  magnificent,  how- 
ever monumental;  because  this  building  which  we  are 
here  to  dedicate  to  its  high  purpose  in  the  presence  of 
representatives  of  education  of  every  form  and  type 
is  itself  the  result  of  more  than  a  century  and  a  quarter 
of  purposeful  history.  It  puts  into  marble  and  stone 
and  steel  the  visible  embodiment  of  a  great  ideal. 

The  constructive  spirit  of  Alexander  Hamilton  broods 
over  this  place.  Whether  or  not  Hamilton  was  him- 

55 


56          THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  UNIVERSITY 

self  the  first  to  conceive  of  an  American  state  system  of 
education  in  which  every  educational  interest  and 
every  type  and  form  of  instruction  was  to  be  included, 
makes  very  little  difference.  Whether  Hamilton  him- 
self worked  out  the  plan  for  the  New  York  system  of 
education,  or  whether  he  only  aided  and  guided  others 
in  working  it  out,  is  a  matter  of  no  great  present  im- 
portance. Hamilton's  philosophic  insight,  his  broad 
vision,  his  practical  capacity,  are  all  represented  and 
reflected  in  what  this  great  building  stands  for  and 
celebrates.  That  the  framework  of  the  educational 
system  of  the  State  of  New  York  embodies  the  result 
of  the  conflicting  views,  political  and  social,  of  Alex- 
ander Hamilton  and  of  George  Clinton,  we  know. 
That  the  life  history  of  that  system  bears  in  the  fullest 
measure  the  evidence  of  Hamilton's  genius  and  of 
Hamilton's  intellectual  vitality,  is  a  matter  of  undis- 
puted record  and  should  be  recalled  on  this  day  and  in 
this  presence. 

The  seed  thought  which  underlies  and  gives  purpose 
to  the  whole  educational  policy  of  New  York  from  its 
very  beginning — when  it  was  a  colony,  when  it  was  a 
province,  and  later  when  it  became  a  State — is  that 
the  educational  process  is  a  unit  and  that  its  super- 
vision and  control  should  be  gathered  into  one  single 
department  of  state  education.  Rivalries,  misunder- 
standings, personal  interests,  and  ambitions  long  re- 
tarded the  complete  fulfilment  of  this  fine  aim.  From 
the  time  of  the  first  establishment  in  1812  of  the 
office  of  State  Superintendent  of  Public  Instruction 


THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  UNIVERSITY          57 

until  the  enactment  nearly  ninety  years  later  of  the 
admirable  law  which  is  now  in  force  and  under  which 
we  live,  the  complete  unification  of  the  educational 
administration  of  the  State  proved  to  be  impossible. 
That  unification  has  now  been  wholly  achieved.  This 
building  is  its  revelation  and  its  embodiment.  It  has 
been  achieved  to  the  very  great  satisfaction,  I  feel 
sure,  of  every  student  of  education  and  of  the  en- 
lightened citizenship  of  the  State.  It  is  an  achieve- 
ment for  New  York;  it  is  an  example  for  our  sister 
States. 

This  evidence  of  practical  sagacity  reflects  and  ex- 
emplifies a  profound  philosophic  truth.  The  moment 
that  we  think  straight  about  education  and  free  our- 
selves from  cant,  from  phrase-making,  and  from  for- 
mulas, we  know  that  intellectual  and  moral  growth  is 
an  undivided  process.  We  know  that  it  cannot  be 
divided  into  water-tight  compartments,  any  one  of 
which  may  be  filled  with  ignorance  while  the  human 
being  affected  still  floats  on  the  sea  of  intelligence. 
We  know  that  it  cannot  be  cut  up  into  fragments  at 
war  among  themselves,  with  some  one  fragment  tak- 
ing precedence  over  others.  We  know  that  every 
educational  institution  has  a  common  purpose  and  a 
common  end,  and  that  to  attempt  to  set  one  against 
the  other,  to  bring  about  conflict  and  rivalry  and  jeal- 
ousy between  them,  is  to  incite  educational  civil  war. 
The  division  of  education  into  stages,  the  classification 
of  educational  institutions  into  types,  is  a  mere  matter 
of  administrative  convenience,  a  simple  administra- 


58  THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  UNIVERSITY 

tive  device  with  nothing  to  justify  it  but  our  adminis- 
trative convenience  and  necessity.  If  any  one  sup- 
poses that  this  device  rests  upon  some  profound  prin- 
ciple that  fixes  a  gulf  between  one  stage  or  grade  of 
education  and  another,  and  that  compels  these  stages 
to  have  different  and  disputing  interests,  then  in  my 
judgment  that  person  is  absolutely  wrong.  It  is  a 
constant  struggle  in  all  of  our  educational  adminis- 
tration to  keep  these  administrative  conveniences  in 
the  subordinate  place  where  they  belong.  We  are  al- 
ways to  have  a  great  and  serious  care  that  our  adminis- 
trative devices  are  not  erected  into  shibboleths  and 
so  made  the  means  of  cramping,  narrowing,  or  crush- 
ing the  life  history  of  even  a  single  human  soul. 

The  point  of  this  remark  lies,  as  an  American  humor- 
ist has  said,  in  the  application  of  it.  That  application 
is  this:  The  process  which  this  building  symbolizes, 
the  process  to  aid  and  guide  which  the  school,  the  col- 
lege, and  the  university  are  founded,  is  one  that  would 
go  on  in  some  fashion  if  schools  and  colleges  and  uni- 
versities had  never  been  heard  of.  These  institutions 
do  not  create  education,  although  they  sometimes  con- 
spire to  make  it  extremely  difficult.  When  one  re- 
flects upon  the  ravages  which  have  been  committed 
in  the  name  of  education  and  upon  the  assaults  on  our 
intelligence  which  have  been  made  by  educated  men, 
he  sees  the  point  of  view  of  the  cynic  who  would  urge 
us  to  agitate  for  compulsory  illiteracy !  He  is  dis- 
posed to  paraphrase  the  dying  words  of  Madame  Ro- 
land, and  to  cry  out:  "Oh,  education,  what  crimes  are 


THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  UNIVERSITY          59 

committed  in  thy  name!"  All  of  which  means  that 
our  supreme  care  in  reflecting  upon  this  great  public 
interest  must  be  to  keep  it  natural,  to  keep  it  true,  to 
keep  it  free  from  contamination  alike  by  false  and  low 
ideals  and  by  mere  mechanical  devices. 

Education  suffers  sometimes  from  those  who  rush  to 
aid  it,  from  those  who  invent  mechanical  devices  for 
it  and  who  become  so  much  more  interested  in  the 
mechanical  device  than  in  the  process  itself.  If  we 
could  only  learn  that  all  our  devices,  all  our  machin- 
ery, are  subordinate  and  adjuvant,  and  are  to  be  kept 
in  their  proper  place !  When  we  become  supremely 
wise  and  supremely  skilful  perhaps  we  shall  be  able  to 
dispense  with  them  altogether. 

At  the  heart  of  this  educational  process,  giving  it 
great  dignity  and  direction,  lies  the  most  precious 
thing  in  the  world,  human  personality.  Human  per- 
sonality is  an  end  in  itself.  To  watch  it  grow,  to  help 
it  grow,  to  take  note  of  the  results  of  its  growth  are  a 
constant  joy  and  delight.  The  putting  forth  of  new 
power,  the  giving  evidence  of  a  capacity  previously 
non-existent,  and  the  growing  responsibility  for  capa- 
ble and  wise  self-direction  are  the  tests  of  an  educa- 
tion that  is  real  rather  than  one  that  is  merely  formal 
and  mechanical. 

This  human  personality  begins  to  manifest  itself  at 
birth,  and  already  in  the  kindergarten  and  in  the  ele- 
mentary school  it  is  the  subject  of  observation  and 
care;  but  it  is  precisely  this  same  human  personality, 
a  little  more  mature,  a  little  better  disciplined,  a  lit- 


60          THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  UNIVERSITY 

tie  more  closely  addicted  to  fixed  habits,  that  gives 
purpose  to  the  university.  There  is  no  qualitative 
change;  there  is  a  quantitative  gain  in  power,  in  habit, 
in  capacity;  but  the  quality,  the  essence,  the  spiritual 
life  at  the  seat  and  centre  of  the  process  are  precisely 
the  same  at  whatever  point  in  the  institutional  scale 
you  bring  it  under  observation. 

The  responsibility  of  the  university  is  doubly  great 
because  of  its  traditions,  because  of  its  resources,  be- 
cause of  its  equipment,  because  of  its  opportunity,  and 
because  it  is  the  last  of  man's  formal  expressions  of 
method  as  to  the  proper  training  of  his  fellow  man. 
The  university  is  the  very  last  rung  on  the  trellis- 
work  that  we  put  up  in  order  that  this  tender  plant, 
reaching  up  from  earth  toward  heaven,  may  find  some- 
thing upon  which  to  rest  its  tendrils  as  it  grows  out 
into  an  independent  strength  and  life  of  its  own.  But 
the  university  cannot  be  out  of  sympathy  or  out  of 
contact  with  the  schools,  with  the  institutions  of  every 
type  that  deal  with  human  personality  in  its  earlier 
and  less  mature  forms.  A  true  university  is  a  proving- 
ground  for  personality  and  for  intellectual  power  and  a 
splendid  gymnasium  for  the  exercise  of  the  muscles  of 
the  intellect  and  of  the  will.  The  primary  purpose  of 
the  university  is  to  provide  the  companionship  of 
scholars  for  scholars  at  a  time  when  sufficient  matur- 
ity has  been  reached  to  make  the  joy  of  the  intellec- 
tual life  intense  and  productive.  If  I  may  borrow  a 
charming  phrase  from  a  colleague  of  mine,  I  should 
say  that  a  university  is  a  company  of  scholars  in  which 


THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  UNIVERSITY          61 

those  who  have  discovered  the  mind  make  full,  prof- 
itable, and  productive  use  of  their  discovery. 

The  temptation  to  define  a  university  is  very  great 
and  the  task  is  very  difficult.  The  university  has 
manifested  itself  in  many  forms  and  in  many  ways. 
It  is  a  far  cry  from  the  little  group  of  students  of  the 
art  of  healing  who  gathered  long  ago  about  a  bubbling 
spring  in  the  south  of  Italy  and  made  the  University 
of  Salerno;  from  the  band  of  eager  scholars  of  the 
Roman  law  who  congregated  in  Bologna  to  hear  Ir- 
nerius  tell  what  it  was  that  the  Roman  world,  already 
lost,  had  left  in  form  and  structure  to  the  civilization 
that  the  barbarian  peoples  were  building  upon  the 
place  where  Rome  once  was;  from  the  day  when  a  band 
of  these  students  exposed  themselves  to  heat,  to  cold, 
to  fatigue,  to  expense,  to  danger,  in  order  that  they 
might  tramp,  foot  weary,  across  the  plains  of  France 
to  hear  the  masters  of  the  schools  expound  the  knowl- 
edge of  the  time  on  the  hills  that  rise  on  either  side  of 
the  River  Seine,  which  were  the  birthplace  of  the 
University  of  Paris — it  is  a  far  cry,  I  say,  from  all 
that  to  the  great  busy  universities  of  Berlin,  of  Vienna, 
of  Paris,  to  the  halls  and  walls  of  Oxford  and  of  Cam- 
bridge, to  Edinburgh  and  to  St.  Andrews,  to  the  uni- 
versities of  our  own  land,  of  Canada,  and  those  on  the 
other  shore  of  the  southern  sea.  But  they  all  have 
something  in  common.  It  is  possible  to  seek  and  to 
find  that  common  denominator  and  to  relate  all  these 
great  undertakings  and  achievements  of  the  human 
spirit  in  a  class  and  so  to  define  them. 


62          THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  UNIVERSITY 

Nearly  twenty  years  ago  I  ventured  to  offer  a  defini- 
tion of  a  university  which  I  have  seen  no  reason  to 
change.  A  college  of  the  liberal  arts  is  not  a  university, 
even  if  its  requirements  for  admission  be  higher  or 
more  complicated  than  usual.  The  college  has  its 
task,  which  is  the  training  of  American  citizens  who 
shall  be  educated  gentlemen.  A  college  surrounded  by 
or  allied  to  a  group  of  technical  or  professional  facul- 
ties or  schools  is  not  a  university.  A  university  is  an 
institution  where  students  adequately  trained  by 
previous  study  of  the  liberal  arts  and  sciences  are  led 
into  special  fields  of  learning  and  research  by  teachers 
of  high  excellence  and  originality,  and  where  by  the 
agency  of  libraries,  museums,  laboratories,  and  publica- 
tions knowledge  is  conserved,  advanced,  and  dissemi- 
nated. Teaching  is  only  one  function  of  a  university, 
and  perhaps  the  smallest  one.  Its  chief  function  is  the 
conservation,  the  advancement,  and  the  dissemination 
of  knowledge,  the  pushing  out  of  that'border-line  be- 
tween the  known  and  the  unknown  which  constitutes 
the  human  horizon.  The  student  who  has  felt  the 
thrill  of  discovery,  however  slight,  however  unim- 
portant; the  student  who  has  put  his  foot  on  ground 
in  letters,  in  science,  in  philosophy,  where  no  man's 
foot  had  ever  been  before,  knows  what  it  is  to  feel  the 
exaltation  of  discovery.  He  has  entered  into  the  spirit 
of  the  university.  He  has  joined  the  household  of 
Socrates. 

What  the  Germans  call  the  philosophical  faculty  is 
at  once  the  essence  and  the  glory  of  the  university. 


THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  UNIVERSITY          63 

There  can  be  no  university  where  the  spirit  and  the 
methods  of  this  faculty  do  not  dominate.  Indeed,  a 
university  is  a  thing,  a  place,  a  spirit,  and  not  a  name 
at  all.  No  institution  can  become  a  university  by 
merely  calling  itself  so.  It  must  come  into  spiritual 
kinship  with  those  that  have  worthily  borne  the  name 
since  universities  were.  If  Mr.  Lowell  exaggerated  a 
little  when  he  said  at  Harvard  some  years  ago  that  a 
university  is  a  place  where  nothing  useful  is  taught, 
surely  he  exaggerated  on  the  right  side.  Doubtless 
what  he  had  in  mind  was  the  fact  that  the  university 
is  a  place  where  everything  else  is  not  subordinated  to 
the  immediately  gainful  or  practical.  The  university 
is  the  resting-place  of  those  activities,  those  scholarly 
aspirations,  those  intellectual  endeavors  which  make 
for  spiritual  insight,  spiritual  depth,  and  spiritual 
beauty,  but  which  cannot  be  transmuted  into  any  coin 
less  base  than  highest  human  service. 

Then  the  university  relates  itself  in  closest  fashion 
to  the  needs  and  aspirations  of  the  state,  the  civic  or- 
der, the  community.  The  university  is  the  home  of 
that  freedom  of  the  spirit  which  is  liberty;  liberty  to 
think,  liberty  to  speak,  liberty  to  teach,  always  ob- 
serving those  limits  which  common  sense,  right  feel- 
ing, and  a  decent  respect  for  the  opinions  of  mankind 
put  upon  all  of  us. 

It  has  seemed  to  me  that  man's  faith  in  liberty  has 
weakened  a  good  deal  in  these  later  years.  As  I  read 
the  signs  of  the  times  abroad  and  at  home,  I  should 
say  that  man's  belief  in  liberty  is  less  vital,  his  grip 


64          THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  UNIVERSITY 

upon  it  less  firm,  than  they  were  a  hundred  years  ago. 
On  every  side  and  in  almost  every  land  it  is  now  pro- 
posed to  achieve  those  aims  for  which  liberty  has  been 
supposed  to  be  the  best  agent,  by  substituting  for 
liberty  the  essentially  mediaeval  instrument  of  regula- 
tion. There  are  strong  and  able  men  who  believe 
that  what  the  single  tyrant  could  not  accomplish  the 
many-headed  majority  may  do.  It  appears  to  be  likely 
that  the  world  will  undergo  another  experience  of  this 
time-old  experiment  which  has  been  tried  so  often,  un- 
til once  more  its  futility  is  made  plain  to  every  one; 
and  then,  doubtless  after  some  of  us  are  gone,  by 
common  consent  the  search  for  liberty  and  its  right 
exercise  will  be  resumed. 

But  there  is  happily  no  sign  that  liberty  is  to  be 
driven  out  of  the  university.  If  the  universities  give 
liberty  a  home  and  keep  alive  the  little  flame  that  has 
illumined  the  world  so  brightly  and  so  long,  man  is 
just  as  sure  to  return  to  the  pursuit  of  liberty  and  its 
right  exercise  as  the  dawn  is  to  follow  the  darkest  night. 

Liberty  implies  a  discipline  which  is  self-discipline, 
and  liberty  is  not  license.  It  implies  a  discipline  by 
which  the  human  spirit  has  taken  over  from  the  world 
about  it,  from  history,  from  tradition,  from  morality, 
from  human  feeling,  a  great  fund  of  material  and  made 
it  into  habits  of  self-control,  self-direction,  self-order- 
ing. The  institutions  of  civilization  are  the  world's 
highest  and  best  example  of  a  disciplined  liberty.  It 
is  a  function  of  the  university  to  show  liberty  at  work 
under  the  restraint  which  self-discipline  imposes. 


THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  UNIVERSITY          65 

Moreover,  true  liberty  implies  reverence  and  carries 
reverence  in  its  breast;  reverence  for  that  which  lasts, 
reverence  for  that  which  has  proved  itself,  reverence 
for  that  which  bears  the  marks  of  excellence,  reverence 
for  that  which  calls  man  up  out  of  and  above  himself. 
That  university  falls  short  of  its  opportunity  which 
does  not  give  constant  lessons  in  a  liberty  that  is  self- 
disciplined  and  that  is  reverent. 

This  liberty  which  the  university  cherishes  is  the 
persistent  foe  of  all  forms  of  artificial  equality,  of  all 
forms  of  mechanical  procedure,  and  of  all  manifesta- 
tions of  a  smug  satisfaction  with  chains  of  an  intel- 
lectual and  moral  narrowness.  It  is  a  function  of  the 
university  in  every  land  to  make  this  so  plain  that  he 
who  runs  may  read. 

We  must  not  shut  our  eyes  to  the  fact  that  the  task 
of  the  university  grows  greater  as  the  difficulties  of 
democracy  grow  heavier  and  more  numerous.  But  the 
university  dare  not  shrink  from  its  responsibility,  from 
its  call  to  public  service,  from  its  protection  of  liberty. 
The  university  must  not  follow,  it  must  lead.  The 
university  must  not  seek  for  popularity,  it  must  re- 
main true  to  principle.  The  university  must  not  sac- 
rifice its  independence  either  through  fear  of  criticism 
or  abuse  or  through  hope  of  favors  and  of  gain.  We 
dare  not  be  false  to  our  great  tradition.  Remember 
that  of  all  existing  institutions  of  civilization  which 
have  had  their  origin  in  the  western  world,  the  univer- 
sity is  now  the  oldest  save  only  the  Christian  church 
and  the  Roman  law.  The  university  has  witnessed  the 


66          THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  UNIVERSITY 

decline  and  fall  of  empires,  the  migration  of  peoples, 
the  discovery  of  continents,  and  one  revolution  after 
another  in  the  intellectual,  social,  and  political  life  of 
man.  Of  all  these  the  university  may  say,  in  the  well- 
known  words  of  the  pious  <#Lneas,  omitting  only  his 
adjective  of  misery, 

"Quaeque  ipse  vidi 
Et  quorum  pars  magna  fui." 

The  university  has  been  at  the  heart  and  centre  of 
almost  every  great  movement  in  the  western  world 
that  has  an  intellectual  aspect  or  an  intellectual  origin. 
Its  responsibility  was  never  so  heavy  as  it  is  to-day. 
This  is  true  whether  you  look  to  Germany,  to  Italy,  to 
France,  to  Russia,  to  England,  to  Scotland,  to  Canada, 
to  America,  to  the  Latin-American  republics,  or  to  the 
new  commonwealths  of  Australia  and  South  Africa. 
What  is  it  that  the  statesmen  of  New  China,  feeling 
the  flow  of  a  fresh  life-blood  in  the  nation's  veins,  first 
propose  to  imitate  out  of  all  the  world  ?  They  wish  to 
imitate  the  university  as  Europe  and  America  know  it, 
and  for  the  very  purposes  which  have  made  it  so  per- 
manent and  so  powerful  in  Europe  and  in  America. 

We  are  looking  out,  by  common  consent,  upon  a  new 
and  changing  intellectual  and  social  sea.  The  sight  is 
unfamiliar  to  the  individual  but  not  to  the  university. 
The  university  has  seen  it  so  often,  whether  the  change 
has  been  for  good  or  for  ill,  that  the  university  knows 
that  if  only  it  keeps  its  mind  clear  and  its  heart  true 
and  the  prow  of  its  ship  turned  toward  the  pole-star,  it 


THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  UNIVERSITY     67 

will  survive  these  changes,  whatever  they  may  be,  and 
will  contribute  to  make  them  beneficent.  The  uni- 
versity knows  by  long  experience  that  it  wili  come  out 
of  all  these  changes  stronger,  more  influential,  and 
bearing  a  heavier  responsibility  than  ever. 

I  do  not  speak  of  the  university  which  is  brick  and 
stone  and  mortar  and  steel.  I  do  not  even  speak  of 
the  university  which  is  books  and  laboratories  and 
classrooms  and  thronging  companies  of  students.  I 
speak  of  the  university  as  a  great  human  ideal.  I 
speak  of  it  as  the  free  pursuit  of  truth  by  scholars  in 
association,  partly  for  the  joy  of  discovery  in  the  pur- 
suit of  knowledge,  partly  for  the  service  to  one's  fellow 
men  through  the  results  of  discovery  and  the  pursuit 
of  knowledge. 

When  I  look  back  and  remember  what  the  univer- 
sity so  conceived  has  done,  when  I  remember  the  great 
names,  the  noble  characters,  the  splendid  achieve- 
ments that  are  built  forever  into  its  thousand  and 
more  years  of  history,  I  think  I  can  see  that  we  have 
only  to  remain  true  to  our  high  tradition,  only  to  hold 
fast  to  our  inflexible  purpose,  only  to  continue  to 
nourish  a  disciplined  and  reverent  liberty,  to  make  it 
certain  that  the  university  will  remain  to  serve  man- 
kind when  even  the  marble  and  steel  of  this  great  build- 
ing will  have  crumbled  and  rusted  into  dust. 


MEMORY  AND  FAITH 


Address  at  the  Annual  Commemoration  Service,  St.  Paul's  Chapel, 
Columbia  University,  December  6,  1914 


MEMORY  AND  FAITH 

To  one  who  knows  and  loves  Columbia  University 
and  who  has  passed  his  whole  life  in  the  university's 
service,  this  day  and  this  occasion  are  full  of  solemn 
significance.  In  our  noble  commemoration  service  we 
are  to  reflect  on  the  immortality  of  the  university,  its 
ideals,  its  hopes,  its  achievements  on  the  one  hand, 
and  on  the  quick  passing  of  even  the  fullest  and  the 
longest  human  life  on  the  other.  The  occasion  invites 
us  to  compare  these  two  phenomena  and  to  interpret 
them  each  in  terms  of  the  other.  We  are  to  picture 
to  ourselves  for  a  few  moments  the  planning  and  the 
upbuilding  of  one  of  humanity's  freest  and  finest  prod- 
ucts, and  we  are  to  dwell  upon  the  life  and  the  ser- 
vices of  those  workmen  whose  task  on  the  great  struc- 
ture is  done.  To  some  it  was  given  to  draw  plans  and 
to  lay  foundations;  to  others  it  was  given  to  aid  wisely 
and  well  in  making  the  superstructure  rise  upward 
through  the  long  course  of  years;  to  still  others  it 
was  given  to  add  to  the  building  those  marks  of  beauty 
which  are  the  fruit  of  genius  and  to  surround  it  with 
those  tender  associations  which  are  the  accompani- 
ment of  fine  and  gentle  character.  Where  the  task  is 
infinite  and  the  time  unending  there  can  be  no  ap- 
praisal of  service  in  terms  of  accomplishment.  The 
greatest  accomplishment  seems  small  indeed  when 

71 


72  MEMORY  AND  FAITH 

measured  by  such  standards.  Service  in  such  a  task 
must  be  appraised,  recorded,  and  lovingly  dwelt  upon 
in  terms  of  sacrifice,  of  purpose,  of  spirit. 

The  progress  of  civilization — if  civilization  has 
really  progressed — is  marked  in  each  of  its  several 
stages  by  typical  visible  institutions  into  which  the 
prophets,  the  seers,  and  the  spiritual  leaders  of  an 
epoch  put  all  that  is  best  in  themselves  and  in  their 
time.  The  spiritual  life,  the  reflection,  and  the  aspira- 
tion of  the  Middle  Ages  poured  themselves  out  into 
those  great  cathedrals  which  dot  the  hills  and  plains 
of  Europe,  with  their  towers  and  spires  pointing 
toward  the  heaven  that  they  fain  would  reach,  with 
their  windows  bearing  in  superb  adornment  symbolic 
representation  of  all  that  the  Middle  Ages  held  most 
dear,  and  with  their  doors  wide  open  that  all  men 
might  enter  to  see  and  hear  and  share  in  their  message 
and  in  their  meaning.  The  form  of  reflection  and  the 
form  of  faith  that  built  those  splendid  churches  are  no 
longer  found  dominant  among  us,  but  they  themselves 
remain,  not  alone  as  monuments  of  one  of  the  most 
splendid  periods  in  the  whole  record  of  human  achieve- 
ment but  as  milestones  along  the  pathway  of  the  hu- 
man spirit  toward  its  distant  goal.  Even  to-day  we 
can  almost  see  the  patient  artist  of  centuries  long  gone 
working  with  devoted  skill  and  with  loving  care  to  the 
end  that  an  arch,  a  window,  an  altar-piece,  or  a  pinna- 
cle might  be  made  more  beautiful  and  might  carry 
forever  on  its  carved  face  more  of  what  he  himself,  in 
his  simple-minded,  placid  faith,  was  and  felt.  Time 


MEMORY  AND  FAITH  73 

has  passed;  stupendous  changes  have  come  over  the 
mind  and  the  spirit  of  man,  and  another  form  of  hu- 
man institution  has  pushed  the  cathedral  aside  into 
history.  That  newer  institution  is  almost  as  old  as 
the  cathedral  itself,  but  it  was  ages  long  in  coming  into 
its  full  inheritance.  That  institution  is  the  university. 
Everywhere  the  university  embodies  the  ambitions,  the 
ideals,  and  the  hopes  of  the  age  in  which  we  live.  It 
includes  the  anxious  and  assiduous  pursuit  of  truth 
on  the  one  hand,  and  the  training  and  guiding  of  the 
younger  generation  on  the  other,  as  well  as  the  pour- 
ing out  of  all  the  fruits  of  its  experience  and  its  wis- 
dom before  the  people  so  that  the  whole  people  may 
share  those  fruits  to  their  inestimable  advantage. 

He  who  really  understands  a  university  and  enters 
into  its  spirit  understands  his  own  time  and  all  time. 
The  university  puts  behind  it  and  away  from  it  the 
meaner  and  the  baser  motives  and  feelings.  It  has 
no  place  for  greed,  for  jealousy,  for  vanity,  or  for 
empty  boasting.  The  only  emulation  it  admits  is 
emulation  in  the  pursuit  of  truth  and  in  the  service  of 
mankind.  Its  life  is  an  open  book;  its  treasures  are 
the  men  who  make  it  and  the  men  whom  it  in  turn 
makes.  No  other  product  of  humanity — no  form  of 
government,  no  work  of  letters  or  of  art,  no  discovery 
in  science,  and  no  new  conquest  of  nature's  forces- 
is  so  human,  so  truly  human,  and  so  fully  representa- 
tive of  humanity  as  is  the  university  truly  conceived. 
Its  fabric  may  be  bombarded  and  burnt,  but  its  spirit 
cannot  be  touched  by  cannon  or  by  fire.  It  may  be 


74  MEMORY  AND  FAITH 

deprived  of  means  with  which  to  exert  its  powers  and 
capacities  to  the  utmost,  but  it  cannot  be  prevented 
from  doing  all  that  is  possible  for  it  to  do  in  pursuit 
of  its  everlasting  and  uplifting  purpose.  Those  who 
can  see  in  the  university  nothing  more  than  a  group  of 
stately  buildings,  a  collection  of  rare  and  useful  books, 
quantities  of  modern  and  well-adapted  apparatus,  and 
thronging  companies  of  students  eager  to  be  shown 
how  to  grasp  hold  of  life  in  some  fashion  that  will 
produce  adequate  economic  return,  do  not  see  the  uni- 
versity at  all.  All  these  things  are  there,  but  they  are 
on  the  surface  only.  The  deeper  things  in  a  univer- 
sity's life  and  history  are  only  known  and  felt  by  those 
who  are  able  to  go  beneath  the  surface  as  it  presents 
itself  day  by  day,  and  to  feel  the  majestic  onward 
sweep  of  the  great  current  of  spiritual  life  with  its 
grand  tradition  that  finds  in  the  university  at  once  a 
garment  and  a  form  of  highest  and  most  lasting  ex- 
pression. 

It  is  from  a  university  so  conceived  that  there  have 
gone  out  in  the  year  now  closing  many  noble  and  gen- 
erous lives.  Some  of  them  had  been  so  fortunate  as 
to  be  permitted  to  carry  large  and  heavy  stones  to  the 
rising  structure  and  to  leave  their  names  carved  for- 
ever upon  it.  Others  have  been  mysteriously  taken 
from  the  work  when  life  was  all  before  them,  when 
they  were  just  beginning  to  feel  the  joy  of  the  task 
and  to  appreciate  in  some  measure  its  larger  meanings. 
To-day  we  remember  them  not  alone  for  what  they 
did,  but  for  what  they  wished  to  do;  and  we  like  to 
believe  that  somewhere  and  somehow  beyond  this  ken 


MEMORY  AND  FAITH  75 

of  ours  they  are  able  to  go  forward  unfettered  with 
their  work. 

Philosophers  and  poets  have  in  turn  been  moved  to 
look  upon  life  now  as  a  tragedy  and  now  as  a  comedy. 
For  one  it  is  an  inexplicable  mystery,  and  for  another 
it  is  something  that  can  be  in  every  part  weighed, 
measured,  counted,  and  in  so  far  understood.  In  fact, 
life  is  all  these  things  and  yet  none  of  them.  It  has 
an  aspect,  as  it  turns  its  face  to  the  revolving  sun  of 
time,  that  is  now  tragic,  now  comic,  now  mysterious, 
now  understandable;  but  it  is  much  more  than  all 
these  and  far  different  from  them  all.  Life  is  so  much 
the  ultimate  fact  that  everything  else  must  be  stated 
in  terms  of  it,  while  it  can  be  adequately  stated  in 
terms  of  nothing  but  itself.  The  serene  penetration  of 
a  Sophocles,  the  robust  aspiration  of  a  St.  Augustine, 
the  subtle  gentleness  of  a  Pascal,  and  the  magical  re- 
flective power  of  a  Kant  have  all  been  exhausted,  and 
more  than  exhausted,  in  attempting  to  transmute  life 
into  language  and  life's  problems  into  simpler  terms. 
Sophocles,  St.  Augustine,  Pascal,  and  Kant  have  be- 
come immortal  through  the  literally  splendid  char- 
acter of  their  studies  and  portrayals  of  life;  but  life 
remains  after  all  that  they  and  a  thousand  others  have 
contributed  to  its  understanding,  the  ultimate  fact. 
Its  absence  is  as  inconceivable  as  its  extinction  is  in- 
credible. 

In  this  commemoration  service  we  stand  in  contem- 
plation of  the  two  most  impressive  and  controlling 
facts  of  life — memory  and  faith.  It  is  upon  memory 
and  upon  faith  that  we  rest  for  everything  that  we 


76  MEMORY  AND  FAITH 

call  real  and  for  everything  that  we  call  inspiring. 
Odd  as  it  may  sound,  there  is  no  such  thing  as  the 
present.  By  the  present  we  mean  only  the  invisible 
dividing  line  between  what  has  just  been  and  what  will 
in  an  instant  be.  While  we  speak  the  little  word  now 
with  which  we  try  to  fix  the  passing  moment,  that 
moment  has  already  gone  to  join  the  unmeasured  and 
the  unplumbed  past  which  looks  to  memory  alone  for 
its  existence.  The  intuition  of  Heraclitus  was  cor- 
rect. Everything  constantly  changes.  What  we  really 
mean  by  the  present  is  the  most  recently  past,  with 
perhaps  some  reference  to  the  nearer  aspects  of  the 
oncoming  future.  What  is  past  is  in  turn  drawn  by 
the  slender  and  imperceptible  thread  of  the  present 
from  the  exhaustless  store  of  that  future  which  is 
posited  by  faith  and  on  which  that  same  faith  builds 
all  of  life's  activities,  hopes,  and  ambitions.  We  re- 
member those  who  were  with  us  on  yesterday  and  we 
have  faith  that  they  will  be  with  us  again  on  the  mor- 
row. He  who  would  build  his  life  only  upon  what  he 
sees  and  hears  and  touches,  and  therefore  upon  what 
he  thinks  he  knows,  builds  not  upon  reality  but  upon 
the  oldest  and  most  persistent  of  illusions.  The  philo- 
sophical egotist,  heedless  of  the  teaching  of  Socrates, 
hath  said  in  his  heart  that  there  is  no  world  but  his 
own.  Upon  him  we  need  waste  no  words,  but  may 
leave  him  in  self-satisfied  contemplation  of  his  petty 
product. 

To-day,  then,  we  find  ourselves  first  of  all  remem- 
bering. We  recall  with  affection  the  names,  the 
forms,  the  activities  of  those  who  are  no  longer  within 


MEMORY  AND  FAITH  77 

our  sight.  They  are  very  real  and  ever  present  to  us 
by  reason  of  our  manifold  and  powerful  associations 
with  them.  We  can  trace  their  footsteps  and  the 
marks  of  their  handiwork  in,  about,  and  upon  the  fab- 
ric, seen  and  unseen,  of  the  university  of  our  love. 
Then  we  turn  from  our  memory  to  our  faith.  We  try 
in  vain  to  picture  where  those  who  have  gone  may 
now  be  or  how  they  may  now  be  at  work.  Somehow 
we  cannot  divest  ourselves  of  the  feeling,  the  belief, 
the  faith  that,  while  there  has  been  interruption  in 
the  form  of  their  activity  and  in  the  conditions  of 
their  existence,  that  activity  and  that  existence  still 
are.  The  alternative  revolts  intelligence  and  reduces 
reason  to  irrationality. 

There  is  yet  another  figure  which  helps  us  to  link 
our  memory  and  our  faith.  In  this  university  we 
have  before  our  eyes  one  of  the  storied  hanging-gar- 
dens of  the  world.  Into  it  there  come  each  year  hun- 
dreds, and  even  thousands,  of  tender  shoots  of  the 
human  plant.  In  this  garden  they  are  set  out,  some- 
times in  even  rows,  sometimes  irregularly,  according 
as  each  one  will  flourish  best.  They  are  nourished 
and  cared  for.  They  are  trained  to  grow  upward, 
and,  if  it  be  their  nature,  they  are  made  to  stand  alone 
and  to  support  their  own  weight.  In  the  fulness  of 
time  these  tender  shoots  have  grown  into  fine  strong 
plants  and  trees.  They  put  forth  buds  and  flowers. 
They  throw  protecting  shade,  and  when  the  due  time 
comes  they  ripen  and  scatter  themselves  over  the  soil 
of  the  garden  to  enrich  and  to  fertilize  it  for  new  gen- 
erations like  their  own.  They  have  manifested  their 


78  MEMORY  AND  FAITH 

presence  and  they  have  left  a  remembrance,  some  of 
beauty,  some  of  strength,  some  of  protecting  shade, 
some  of  fertilizing  and  enriching  power.  Each  one 
has  done  its  part.  Each  has  drawn  into  itself  from 
the  soil  of  the  garden  in  which  it  is  set,  rich  with  the 
tradition  and  human  service  of  over  a  century  and  a 
half,  and  from  the  atmosphere  of  freedom  and  confi- 
dent hope  that  glistens  round  about,  those  foods  which 
each  living  thing  knows  how  to  choose  and  to  make 
into  structure,  and,  through  structure,  to  grow,  to 
blossom,  to  fade,  and  to  pass  back  into  the  great 
stream  of  life  from  which  all  life  comes.  In  this  hang- 
ing-garden there  is  no  death.  There  is  only  that 
changed  life  which  brings  forth  life  again  more  abun- 
dantly. 

"I  with  uncovered  head 
Salute  the  sacred  dead, 

Who  went,  and  who  return  not. — Say  not  so ! 
'Tis  not  the  grapes  of  Canaan  that  repay, 
But  the  high  faith  that  failed  not  by  the  way; 
Virtue  treads  paths  that  end  not  in  the  grave; 
No  bar  of  endless  night  exiles  the  brave; 

In  every  nobler  mood 
We  feel  the  orient  of  their  spirit  glow, 
Part  of  our  life's  unalterable  good, 
Of  all  our  saintlier  aspiration; 

They  come  transfigured  back, 
Secure  from  change  in  their  high-hearted  ways, 
Beautiful  evermore,  and  with  the  rays 
Of  morn  on  their  white  Shields  of  Expectation !" 


VI 


Address  at  Johns  Hopkins  University  on  Commemoration  Day, 
February  22,  1915 


THE  UNIVERSITY  PRESIDENT,  UNIVERSITY 
TEACHER,  AND  UNIVERSITY  STUDENT 

In  accordance  with  fortunate  custom,  members  of 
this  university  are  assembled  to  commemorate  its 
ideals  and  its  purposes,  to  recall  with  affectionate  re- 
gard the  names  of  those  great  ornaments  of  the  uni- 
versity who  are  gone,  and  on  this  occasion  also  to  wish 
Godspeed  to  him  who  has  recently  been  chosen  to  its 
high  office  of  president. 

More  or  less  that  is  not  new  has  of  late  been  written 
about  this  office,  as  well  as  more  or  less  that  is  not 
true.  The  office  itself  is  in  its  historic  evolution  the 
outgrowth  and  the  product  of  personality.  It  depends 
for  its  usefulness  and  effectiveness  wholly  upon  per- 
sonality and  not  at  all  upon  authority.  Judged  by  the 
length  and  the  security  of  tenure  of  its  various  incum- 
bents at  different  institutions,  the  office  is  what  would 
be  called  in  the  business  world  an  extra-hazardous 
risk.  Disturbance  relating  to  it  is  not  infrequent,  and 
eviction  from  it  is  not  unknown.  Nevertheless,  am- 
bition to  hold  it  is  well-nigh  universal  among  academic 
persons. 

The  beginnings  of  the  modern  office  of  university 
president  are  to  be  seen  in  the  careers  of  Tappan  at 
Michigan,  of  Wayland  at  Brown,  and  of  Anderson  at 
Rochester.  Barnard,  of  Mississippi  and  of  Columbia, 

81 


82  PRESIDENT,  TEACHER,  STUDENT 

was  probably  the  first  to  give  to  the  office  its  sig- 
nificant relationship  to  general  educational  policy  and 
to  the  philosophy  of  education.  White  of  Cornell, 
Gilman  of  Johns  Hopkins,  and  Harper  of  Chicago 
were  the  earliest  of  that  small  but  powerful  group  who 
have  been  able  to  put  their  hands  to  the  invigorating 
and  inspiring  task  of  creating  a  new  institution  out  of 
an  idea.  Eliot  of  Harvard  is  the  pioneer  among  those 
whose  work  and  pleasure  it  has  been  to  put  a  wholly 
new  and  reconstructed  modern  building  upon  an  old 
and  highly  respected  foundation.  These  men,  two  of 
whom  fortunately  still  live  to  give  us  constant  coun- 
sel and  guidance,  will  occupy  the  chief  places  in  our 
academic  Pantheon  of  the  nineteenth  century.  As 
their  names  are  heard  it  will  be  recognized  -that  they 
have,  each  in  his  own  way,  helped  to  establish  another 
striking  characteristic  of  the  office  that  they  adorned — 
its  direct  relation  to  public  service  and  to  the  instruc- 
tion and  elevation  of  public  opinion.  It  is  a  matter  of 
just  pride  to  those  who  have  chosen  the  academic  life 
and  who  follow  it,  that  American  citizenship  and 
American  scholarship  bear  upon  their  rolls  such  names 
as  these. 

It  is  worth  while  to  notice  the  reaching  out  in  other 
lands,  where  universities  are  much  older  than  with  us 
and  where  tradition  is  less  rudely  disturbed  than  is  so 
often  the  case  here,  for  the  establishment  among  them 
of  those  academic  relationships  and  responsibilities 
that  have  done  such  service  in  America.  When  the 
Ministerialdirektor  in  the  Cultusministerium  of  Prus- 


PRESIDENT,   TEACHER,  STUDENT  83 

sia  is  a  sufficiently  powerful  personality,  he  is  in  effect 
president  not  of  one  Prussian  university  but  of  the  en- 
tire eleven.  Shortly  before  his  death  I  was  walking 
one  summer  day  in  the  forest  at  Wilhelmshohe  with 
Doctor  Friedrich  AlthofF,  a  true  ava%  avSp&v  and  one 
of  the  most  devoted  and  efficient  administrators  of 
education  that  the  world  has  known.  Doctor  AlthofF 
was  then,  and  had  been  for  many  years,  Ministerial- 
direktor  in  the  Prussian  Cultusministerium.  He  asked 
a  number  of  questions  as  to  how  university  business 
was  transacted  in  America,  as  to  how  responsibility  for 
certain  acts  and  policies  was  fixed,  and  in  particular  as 
to  how  appointments  to  important  academic  posts 
were  made.  When  in  reply  the  great  variety  of  meth- 
ods for  doing  all  these  things  in  the  United  States  was 
described  to  him  at  some  length,  Doctor  AlthofF  threw 
up  his  hands  in  despair  and  said:  "Impracticable! 
Impossible !  Here  I  do  all  that  myself,  or  take  care 
that  it  is  done."  He  went  on  to  express  the  hope  that 
his  life  might  be  spared  to  work  out  some  plan  for  the 
better  organization  of  the  Prussian  universities  to  the 
end  that,  without  in  any  way  separating  them  from  the 
ultimate  and  complete  control  of  the  state,  each  uni- 
versity might  have  an  administrative  head  of  its  own 
charged  with  substantially  the  same  duties  as  fall  to 
the  lot  of  a  university  president  in  America.  In  France 
the  accomplished  Liard  in  Paris,  and  in  Great  Britain 
the  principals  of  the  four  Scottish  universities,  as  well 
as  Michael  Sadler  at  Leeds,  Herbert  Fisher  at  Shef- 
field, and  Sir  Henry  Miers,  just  now  leaving  London 


84  PRESIDENT,  TEACHER,  STUDENT 

for  Manchester,  have  duties  and  responsibilities  that 
are  in  most  respects  analogous  to  those  that  devolve 
upon  the  university  president  here.  Upon  the  judicious 
and  far-sighted  use  of  the  opportunities  that  the  office 
affords  will  depend  in  large  measure  the  influence,  the 
importance,  and  the  productiveness  of  the  univer- 
sities of  the  world  during  the  next  generation  or  two. 
The  duties  and  responsibilities  of  the  office  of  uni- 
versity president  may  be  summed  up  in  very  few 
words.  They  are  the  jealous  care  and  close  oversight 
of  the  work  and  interests  of  the  university  taken  as  a 
whole,  and  the  guidance  of  its  relations  toward  the 
public.  The  statutes  of  a  given  university  may  be 
more  or  less  specific  in  regard  to  the  office  of  the  presi- 
dent, and  they  may  intrust  to  the  incumbent  of  that 
office  greater  or  less  authority,  but  the  fact  remains 
that  the  office  will  be  in  chief  part  what  the  incumbent 
makes  it,  and  the  measure  of  its  authority  will  be  the 
force  of  his  personality.  No  autocrat  and  no  self- 
seeker  can  long  maintain  himself  in  it.  A  great  office 
makes  a  great  man  seem  greater  still  by  reason  of  the 
opportunity  it  affords  him  for  the  use  of  his  powers;  a 
great  office  makes  a  small  man  seem  smaller  still  by 
reason  of  the  fierce  light  which  it  causes  to  fall  upon  his 
littleness.  It  is  one  of  the  most  satisfactory  incidents 
in  the  history  of  the  American  democracy  that  it  has 
brought  into  existence  an  important  and  conspicuous 
office  whose  incumbent  is  set  apart  by  his  very  in- 
cumbency to  represent  in  our  American  life  the  prin- 
ciples and  ideals  upon  which  universities  are  built  and 


PRESIDENT,   TEACHER,  STUDENT  85 

for  which  they  exist,  and  to  hold  these  principles  and 
these  ideals  insistently  before  the  public  attention. 
The  man  of  letters,  the  experimental  scientist,  the  ac- 
complished student  of  history  or  of  economics,  is,  by 
reason  of  his  university  position,  under  obligation  to 
represent  one  aspect  of  university  activity  and  uni- 
versity interest  to  the  public  at  large.  It  is  the  func- 
tion of  the  university  president  to  represent  the  uni- 
versity and  that  for  which  it  stands  in  their  entirety. 
In  any  large  and  complex  university  organization  the 
wise  president  will  live  almost  entirely  in  the  future. 
The  detailed  matters  of  to-day  will  be  dealt  with  by 
others.  He,  however,  will  constantly  scan  the  horizon 
on  the  outlook  for  new  problems  and  new  opportu- 
nities for  scholarship  and  for  service. 

Within  the  university  itself  it  is  the  proper  function 
of  the  president  to  be  the  friend  and  counsellor  both  of 
the  scholars  who  teach  and  of  the  scholars  who  learn. 
He  has  the  opportunity  and  privilege  to  bring  to  the 
consideration  of  their  several  problems  and  difficulties 
the  point  of  view  of  the  whole  university,  and  thereby 
to  place  at  the  service  of  each  individual  teacher  and 
student  who  seeks  his  aid  the  results  of  consideration 
given  elsewhere  to  similar  problems  and  of  experience 
in  dealing  with  them  that  others  have  had.  It  is  also 
his  duty  to  interpret  the  plans,  the  policies,  and  the 
needs  of  the  university's  teachers  and  directors  of  re- 
search to  such  governing  body  as  may  exist  to  hold 
and  to  care  for  the  university's  property  and  to  allot 
its  income  in  aid  of  various  university  undertakings. 


86  PRESIDENT,  TEACHER,  STUDENT 

All  this  was  clearly  understood  and  admirably  stated 
by  President  Gilman  when  he  wrote  at  the  very  be- 
ginnings of  this  university  these  words  concerning  the 
office  of  the  president: 

The  President  of  the  University  is  the  authorized  means  of  com- 
munication between  the  Board  and  the  various  officers  of  instruc- 
tion and  administration  employed  in  the  University;  it  shall  be  his 
duty  to  consult  with  the  Professors  in  respect  to  the  development 
of  their  various  departments,  and  the  general  interests  of  the  Uni- 
versity; to  determine  the  appropriate  duties  of  the  Associates  and 
Fellows;  and  to  exercise  such  superintendence  over  the  buildings, 
apparatus,  books  and  other  property  as  will  ensure  their  protec- 
tion and  appropriate  use.  In  respect  to  these  matters  and  all  others 
which  concern  the  welfare  of  the  University,  he  shall  consult  fre- 
quently with  the  Executive  Committee,  and  he  shall  attend  the 
meetings  of  the  Board  of  Trustees.  Purchases,  alterations,  repairs, 
and  other  incidental  expenses  must  not  be  ordered  by  any  of  the 
officers  of  the  University  without  his  previous  assent  or  the  expressed 
authority  of  the  Board. 

Nothing  would  be  more  unfortunate  than  for  the 
office  of  university  president  to  cease  to  be  an  educa- 
tional post  and  to  become  merely  a  business  occupa- 
tion. Such  a  change  would  certainly  be  followed  by 
the  speedy  deterioration  of  the  university's  ideals  and 
by  the  unconscious  commercialization  of  its  methods. 
With  such  a  change  the  reign  of  the  questionnaire — 
wretched  word ! — would  be  abroad  in  the  land,  and  the 
ubiquitous  inquisitor,  governmental  or  private,  armed 
with  his  measuring-rod,  his  tape  line,  and  his  tables  of 
statistics,  would  speedily  reduce  the  university  to  a 
not  very  desirable  form  of  factory.  Systems  of  cost- 


PRESIDENT,  TEACHER,  STUDENT  87 

accounting  would  displace  productive  scholarship  in 
furnishing  a  standard  of  judgment  as  to  a  university's 
management  and  usefulness. 

The  notion  that  appears  to  be  held  by  some  that 
there  is  a  divergence  of  interest  between  those  teach- 
ers who  teach  and  those  teachers  who  are  chosen  to 
have  particular  responsibility  for  the  care  and  support 
of  teaching  is  wholly  illusory.  It  is  the  true  function 
of  educational  administration  to  reduce  machinery  to 
a  minimum,  to  keep  it  out  of  sight  and  as  much  as 
possible  out  of  mind,  and  as  completely  as  means  will 
permit  to  set  free  the  two  great  and  largely  interde- 
pendent functions  of  teaching  and  research. 

At  no  time  has  the  academic  career  been  so  impor- 
tant as  it  is  to-day,  at  no  time  has  it  ever  been  so  well 
compensated,  and  at  no  time  have  those  who  pursue 
it  been  offered  larger  opportunities  for  the  exercise  of 
influence  on  public  opinion.  It  is  now  the  custom 
everywhere  in  the  world  to  seek  the  counsel  and  the 
opinion  of  the  professorial  class  when  any  matter  of 
public  interest  is  under  consideration  or  in  dispute. 
This  applies,  unfortunately,  not  only  to  matters  of 
which  the  professorial  class  have  cognizance,  but  also 
to  matters  of  which  they  know  little  or  nothing.  The 
result  has  been  to  put  a  new  and  strange  burden  upon 
professors  and  to  offer  a  temptation  to  the  assumption 
of  infallibility  that  has  proved  too  much  for  some  aca- 
demic persons  in  more  lands  than  one.  The  per- 
formances, both  vocal  and  other,  of  not  a  few  univer- 


88  PRESIDENT,   TEACHER,  STUDENT 

sity  professors  in  many  countries,  including  our  own, 
in  connection  with  the  great  war  in  Europe,  have 
made  it  seem  desirable  to  many  of  us  to  insist  upon 
dropping  the  title  of  Professor  and  to  substitute  for  it 
the  less  combative  Mister. 

It  is  the  fashion  of  the  moment  not  to  have  any 
fixed  principles  of  knowledge  or  of  conduct,  but  to  pro- 
fess belief  in  the  capacity  and  ability  of  each  individ- 
ual to  make  a  world  philosophy  of  his  own  out  of  such 
materials  as  chance  and  temperament  may  provide. 
This  fashion  is  quite  closely  followed  just  now  by 
large  numbers  of  those  in  academic  life,  and  indeed  it 
is  sometimes  exalted  as  the  one  sure  and  certain  method 
of  finding  an  acceptable  substitute  for  truth.  There 
would  appear  to  be  need  of  a  new  Socrates  who, 
whether  as  gadfly  or  in  some  less  disagreeable  guise, 
shall  do  over  again  what  some  of  us  had  supposed  was 
satisfactorily  done  once  for  all  during  the  closing  dec- 
ades of  the  stirring  fifth  century  before  Christ.  It  is 
a  long  time  since  Socrates  extracted  from  Gorgias  the 
admission  that  with  the  ignorant  the  ignorant  man  is 
more  persuasive  than  he  who  has  knowledge. 

One  result  of  so  many  differing  man-made,  or  pro- 
fessor-made, universities  is  a  frequency  and  variety  of 
conflict  that  it  would  tax  the  mathematician  to  enumer- 
ate and  the  historian  to  classify.  The  notion  that 
nothing  much  that  is  permanent  and  worth  while  has 
been  either  known  or  accomplished  until  our  own  brave 
selves  came  upon  the  scene  makes  education  difficult 


PRESIDENT,   TEACHER,  STUDENT  89 

and,  from  some  points  of  view,  impossible.  If  the 
world  is  to  begin  over  again  whenever  a  new  appoint- 
ment is  made  to  a  professorial  chair,  it  is  reasonably 
plain  that  the  man  in  the  street  will  soon  dispense  with 
the  services  and  the  guidance  of  the  men  of  everlasting 
beginnings.  In  much  the  same  way  we  are  now  asked 
to  believe  that  whenever  a  callow  youth  makes  a 
minute  addition  to  his  own  stock  of  information  the 
sum  total  of  human  knowledge  has  been  increased  as 
the  result  of  scientific  investigation.  It  is  just  this 
mixing  up  of  the  individual  with  the  cosmos  and  of  the 
morning  paper  with  the  history  of  civilization  that  is 
the  weakest  point  in  academic  teaching  at  the  present 
time,  particularly  in  those  subjects  which  once  were 
history,  economics,  politics,  ethics,  and  public  law. 
Those  who  remember  the  striking  lectures  of  Heinrich 
von  Treitschke,  recently  discovered  by  England  and 
America  and  now  much  discussed  in  both  countries, 
will  recall  the  fact  that  he  gave  but  scant  attention  to 
the  teaching  of  the  history  of  Europe  and  of  Germany, 
although  his  chair  was  supposed  to  deal  with  those 
subjects.  What  Von  Treitschke  really  did  was  to 
make  lectures  on  the  history  of  Europe  and  of  Germany 
the  vehicle  for  the  very  effective  and  emphatic  expres- 
sion of  his  own  personal  opinions  on  men  and  things  in 
the  world  about  him.  In  some  degree,  therefore,  Von 
Treitschke  was  the  forerunner  of  that  now  very  con- 
siderable class  of  American  university  professors  who 
devote  no  small  part  of  their  time  to  expressing  to  their 


9o  PRESIDENT,  TEACHER,  STUDENT 

students  their  own  personal  views  on  the  politics,  the 
literature,  and  the  society  of  the  day,  while  in  form 
offering  instruction  on  anything  from  astronomy  to 
zoology.  There  is  something  to  be  said  for  the  policy 
of  making  academic  teaching  effective  by  relating  it 
to  present-day  interests  and  problems,  but  there  is 
nothing  to  be  said  for  turning  academic  teaching  into 
an  exercise  in  contemporary  journalism.  When  every 
considerable  town  has  its  own  Napoleon  of  finance 
and  every  political  group  its  Hamilton  or  its  Jefferson, 
there  is  some  danger  of  getting  mixed  as  to  standards. 
All  these  are  troubles  which  have  come  upon  the 
professorial  class  as  a  result  of  the  public  appeal  made 
to  us  for  an  expression  of  opinion  on  current  topics. 
If  one  be  a  profound  student  of  Plato  he  is  expected 
without  warning  to  pass  an  illuminating  critical  judg- 
ment upon  the  latest  outgiving  of  Mr.  George  Bernard 
Shaw.  If  he  happens  to  be  well  versed  in  the  economic' 
thought  of  Germany  and  Austria,  he  is  called  upon  for 
an  authoritative  expression  of  opinion  regarding  the 
strike  of  coal-miners  in  Colorado.  If  by  any  chance 
he  has  ever  written  a  book  on  any  aspect  of  railway 
organization,  management,  or  finance,  he  runs  the 
risk  of  being  clapped  upon  a  public  commission  to 
supervise  and  in  part  to  control  the  railway  systems  of 
a  state  or  nation.  All  these  are  dangers  and  embar- 
rassments to  which  the  alert  university  professor, 
whose  name  is  known  in  the  newspaper  offices,  is  now 
constantly  subjected.  Avoidance  of  them  is  possible 
only  for  the  sagacious  and  well-balanced  scholar  who 


PRESIDENT,  TEACHER,  STUDENT  91 

knows  that  no  single  master-key  will  unlock  all  human 
doors  of  difficulty. 

One  of  the  chief  tools  of  the  present-day  academic 
conjurer  is  the  blessed  word  sociology,  particularly  in 
the  hands  of  some  one  not  a  trained  sociologist.  Both 
Auguste  Comte  and  Herbert  Spencer  would  be  not  a 
little  surprised  to  see  what  has  become  of  the  term 
that  they  fondled  so  tenderly.  It  is  now  stretched  to 
include  everything  that  can  possibly  relate  to  the 
diagnosis  of  social  ills  as  well  as  everything  that  can 
possibly  relate  to  social  therapeutics.  Not  even  the 
subtlest  of  physicists  has  yet  worked  out  a  theory  of 
the  elasticity  of  gases  that  is  adequate  to  explain  the 
potentialities  of  the  word  sociology.  This  word,  once 
so  innocent  and  so  impressive,  is  now  under  a  cloud 
because  of  its  attempt  to  establish  a  world-empire. 
Poetry  and  alchemy,  science  and  song,  religion  and 
mythology,  philosophy  and  magic,  are  all  reduced  to 
mere  counters  in  its  great  world-game.  Naturally 
these  smaller  and  ambitious  states  have  become  rest- 
less and  are  showing  signs  of  revolt.  They  wish  to  be 
permitted  to  live  their  own  lives  and  not  to  be  made 
mere  vassals  of  a  mighty  overlord  who  possesses  all 
knowledge,  who  wields  all  power,  and  who  monopolizes 
all  explanations.  Just  now  law  is  under  attack  from  a 
curious  mixture  of  sentiment  and  lore  that  calls  itself 
sociological  jurisprudence,  and  which  I  understand  to 
be  a  sort  of  legal  osteopathy.  We  can  only  await  with 
some  concern  the  reactions  in  the  appropriate  labora- 
tories when  a  sociological  physics,  a  sociological  chem- 


92  PRESIDENT,   TEACHER,  STUDENT 

istry,   and   a  sociological   anatomy   appear  upon  the 


scene. 


Of  the  American  university  student  it  must  be  said 
that  in  far  too  many  instances  he  is  prevented  from 
getting  on  as  well  as  he  should  because  he  is  over- 
taught.  In  particular,  he  is  overlectured.  The  tra- 
ditions of  school  and  college  are  still  strong  in  the  uni- 
versities, and  the  ideal  university  relations  of  scholarly 
companionship  between  teacher  and  taught  have  diffi- 
culty in  establishing  and  in  maintaining  themselves. 
To  use — or  rather  to  abuse — the  academic  lecture  by 
making  it  a  medium  for  the  conveyance  of  mere  in- 
formation is  to  shut  one's  eyes  to  the  fact  that  the  art 
of  printing  has  been  discovered.  The  proper  use  of 
the  lecture  is  the  critical  interpretation  by  the  older 
scholar  of  the  information  which  the  younger  scholar 
has  gained  for  himself.  Its  object  is  to  inspire  and  to 
guide  and  by  no  means  merely  to  inform. 

Indeed,  there  is  some  reason  to  doubt  whether  the 
undue  dominance  and  prominence  of  the  didactic 
point  of  view  in  the  modern  university  is  altogether 
an  advantage.  The  happy  days  at  Bologna  when  the 
students  and  their  rector  managed  the  university, 
when  professorial  punctuality  was  enforced  by  fines, 
and  when  the  familiar  professorial  practice  of  dwelling 
unduly  on  the  earlier  parts  of  a  subject  to  the  neglect 
of  the  later  parts  was  checked  by  the  expedient  of 
dividing  a  topic  into  puncta  and  requiring  the  doctor 
to  reach  each  punctum  by  a  specified  date,  certainly 


PRESIDENT,  TEACHER,  STUDENT  93 

had  much  to  commend  them.  Then  it  was  the  stu- 
dents who  made  the  rules  and  disciplined  their  teach- 
ers; now  it  is  the  teachers  who  make  the  rules  and  dis- 
cipline their  students. 

The  chief  object  of  the  university's  teaching,  of  its 
libraries  and  its  laboratories,  is  after  all  to  arouse  in- 
tellectual interest,  to  stimulate  curiosity,  and  to  send 
out  a  young  man  on  his  voyage  of  discovery  filled  with 
ardent  enthusiasm,  enriched  by  close  association  with 
wise  and  noble-hearted  men,  and  imbued  with  the  high 
ambition  to  make  the  most  of  himself  and  of  his  chosen 
field  of  study.  If  even  the  most  numerously  attended 
university  can  do  this  for  a  hundred  men  each  year, 
and  if  five  of  the  hundred  become  distinguished  and 
one  of  the  five  eminent,  that  university  has  been  suc- 
cessful. It  has  done  a  noteworthy  service  to  American 
life,  to  scholarship,  and  to  science. 


VII 
THE  AMERICAN  COLLEGE 


Address  delivered  at  Swarthmore  College,  November  14,  1902 


THE  AMERICAN  COLLEGE 

Somewhere  in  the  neighborhood  of  1820  the  Amer- 
ican college,  as  the  term  is  traditionally  used  and  pop- 
ularly understood,  came  into  existence.  Before  1820 
it  would  be  difficult  to  distinguish  the  college,  except 
perhaps  in  two  or  three  instances,  from  the  secondary 
school  of  familiar  form  to-day,  the  high  school  or 
academy.  This  college  uniformly  (so  far  as  I  know) 
gave  a  four-year  course  of  instruction  in  prescribed 
studies.  The  students  came  at  the  age  of  fifteen  or 
sixteen  and  were  graduated  at  nineteen  or  twenty. 
They  were  disciplined  carefully  in  a  narrow  intel- 
lectual field,  and  it  did  most  of  them  great  good. 
They  were  obliged  to  do  many  things  they  did  not 
like  in  ways  not  of  their  own  choosing,  and  they  gained 
in  strength  and  fibre  of  character  thereby.  Ambitious 
boys  who  looked  forward  to  law  or  theology,  and  often 
to  medicine  too,  as  a  professional  career,  sought  the 
college  training  and  college  association  as  a  basis  and 
groundwork  for  their  later  studies  and  their  active 
careers.  For  the  most  part  they  acquitted  themselves 
well,  and  the  sort  of  training  that  the  college  gave 
commended  itself  to  the  intelligent  people  of  the  coun- 
try. The  nation  was  young  and  crude  in  those  days, 
and  it  was  pushing  far  out  into  new  and  unbroken 
territory.  It  had  rivers  to  bridge,  forests  to  hew,  fields 

97 


98  THE  AMERICAN  COLLEGE 

to  clear  and  to  sow,  homes  to  build,  States  to  found. 
That  was  a  noble  era  of  creative  industry.  Life  was 
often  hard  and  luxuries  were  few.  Yet  the  college  went 
wherever  the  population  broke  a  way  for  it.  Eleven 
colleges  were  founded  before  the  Revolution,*  and 
12  between  1783  and  1800;  no  fewer  than  33  came 
into  existence  during  the  thirty  years  that  followed, 
and  1 80  between  1830  and  the  close  of  the  Civil  War. 
Many  of  those  founded  before  1830  were  in  the  newly 
broken  territory.  Two  were  in  western  Pennsylvania, 
5  in  Ohio,  3  in  Kentucky,  i  in  Tennessee,  I  in  Indi- 
ana, 3  in  Illinois,  and  I  in  Missouri.  These  colleges 
differed  from  each  other  in  many  ways,  but  they 
agreed  in  that  they  conferred  one  degree  at  the  con- 
clusion of  the  course,  that  of  bachelor  of  arts,  for  sub- 
stantially the  same  kind  and  amount  of  work.  Post- 
graduate studies,  so  called,  were  almost  or  quite  un- 
known, and  the  completion  of  a  college  course  was  the 
attainment  of  a  liberal  education,  as  the  phrase  goes. 
Judged  by  to-day's  rigorous  and  exacting  standards  of 
scholarship,  the  graduates  of  these  colleges  did  not 
know  very  much.  Nevertheless,  their  minds  were 
carefully  trained  by  devoted  teachers,  sometimes  men 
of  rare  genius  and  human  insight,  and  they  loved 
letters  for  their  own  sake.  They  grew  in  manhood 
and  came  out  of  the  college  halls  full  of  ardor  in  the 
pursuit,  of  high  ideals. 

It  was  this  sort  of  institution  which  gave  the  Amer- 
ican college  its  reputation  and  which  put  into  the  de- 
gree of  A.  B.  the  valued  significance  which  it  has  now 


THE  AMERICAN  COLLEGE  99 

so  largely  lost.  Latin,  Greek,  and  mathematics  were 
the  only  subjects  a  knowledge  of  which  was  required 
for  entrance  to  this  college.  The  Latin  included  gram- 
mar, four  books  of  Caesar's  Commentaries,  six  books  of 
Vergil's  JEneid,  and  six  orations  of  Cicero.  The 
Greek  included  grammar,  three  books  of  Xenophon's 
Anabasis,  and  two  of  Homer's  Iliad.  The  mathe- 
matics included  arithmetic,  a  portion  of  plane  geom- 
etry, and  algebra  as  far  as  quadratic  equations.  These 
subjects  the  boy  mastered  in  school  or  academy  or  by 
private  tuition;  everything  else  that  he  learned  was  in 
the  college  course.  Many  of  the  weaker  and  less  for- 
tunate colleges  gave  some,  or  even  nearly  all,  of  this 
instruction  themselves. 

The  college  course,  properly  so  called,  was  made  up 
of  more  Latin,  Greek,  and  mathematics,  some  English 
literature  and  rhetoric,  a  little  logic,  a  little  political 
economy,  a  little  moral  philosophy,  and,  usually,  a  lit- 
tle mental  philosophy  or  metaphysics.  Occasionally 
chemistry  crept  in;  more  often  a  combination  of  me- 
chanics and  physics  called  natural  philosophy.  His- 
tory, unless  it  was  ancient  history,  played  a  small  part, 
and  the  modern  European  languages  were  rarely  in- 
cluded. 

This  institution,  with  the  requirements  for  admission 
that  I  have  named,  with  the  course  of  study  that  I 
have  outlined,  the  students  being  (usually)  from  six- 
teen to  twenty  years  of  age,  is  the  college  which  dis- 
tinguishes the  American  educational  system  from  that 
of  Europe.  The  degree  that  it  gave  is  the  A.  B.  de- 


ioo  THE  AMERICAN  COLLEGE 

gree  of  the  golden  age  to  which  one  hears  such  con- 
tinual harking  back.  What  has  become  of  this  insti- 
tution, the  American  college  ? 

The  college,  or  academical  department,  embedded  in 
the  great  universities  of  to-day,  is  the  lineal  descendant 
of  the  old  college,  but  strangely  unlike  its  ancestor. 
Even  the  separate  and  independent  college — the  small 
college,  as  it  is  called — is  in  many  ways  very  different 
from  the  older  institution  of  the  same  name.  The 
changes  and  improvements  of  the  past  fifty  years  have 
removed  many  of  the  old  educational  landmarks  and 
rearranged  many  of  the  old  elements  of  secondary  and 
collegiate  instruction.  To  speak  to-day  in  the  terms  of 
fifty  years  ago,  without  marking  carefully  the  changes 
in  the  meaning  of  those  terms,  is  to  talk  nonsense. 

Almost  the  only  colleges  which  retain  the  character- 
istics of  the  old,  traditional  type  are  those  which  have 
been  without  the  means  to  respond  favorably  to  the 
influences  which  have  destroyed  that  type.  The  small 
college  with  low  standards  of  admission  to  a  four-year 
course  is  closer  to  the  American  college  of  history  and 
of  rhetoric  than  is  any  other. 

But  if  the  old  college  itself  has  disappeared,  the  ideal 
for  which  it  stood  remains.  That  ideal  was  to  train 
men  roundly,  thoroughly,  and  well  for  manly  and  worthy 
living.  Their  spirits  were  to  be  furnished,  not  their 
pockets  filled,  by  a  course  of  study  and  training  which 
fell  just  at  the  right  period  of  their  lives,  and  by  close 
and  intimate  association  with  others  having  aims 
similar  to  their  own.  No  purpose  could  be  more  lofty 


THE  AMERICAN  COLLEGE  101 

than  this,  none  more  practical  among  a  democratic 
people. 

What  the  old  college  used  to  do  in  four  years  to  this 
end  is  now  done  in  part  by  the  new  college  and  in  part 
by  the  secondary  school.  Four  years  are  still  required 
to  complete  the  traditional  course  of  study  in  the 
liberal  arts  and  sciences,  but  the  whole  four  years  are 
no  longer  passed  under  one  institutional  roof.  Taking 
Columbia  College  as  a  standard,  one  half  of  the  old 
college's  work,  measured  in  terms  both  of  time  and  of 
content,  is  done  by  the  secondary  school  and  the  re- 
sults are  tested  by  the  college  admission  examination. 
This  change  has  come  about  by  the  general  raising  of 
the  requirements  for  admission,  both  in  quantity  and 
in  quality,  which  has  gone  on  at  most  colleges  since 
1860.  These  requirements  for  admission  have  been 
raised  because  the  country  has  been  better  served  by 
having  the  earlier  part  of  the  work  formerly  done  in 
college  transferred  to  the  secondary  schools.  So  trans- 
ferred this  work  has  been  brought  within  the  reach  of 
tens  of  thousands  of  boys  who  could  never  have  left 
home  to  get  it,  and  who  could  never  have  entered  upon 
a  four-year  college  course  for  lack  of  means.  In  1898 
only  one  third  of  the  nearly  twenty  thousand  boys 
who  were  graduated  from  the  public  high  schools 
looked  forward  to  a  course  in  a  college  or  a  scientific 
school,  and  only  7.18  per  cent  of  all  the  boys  in  the 
public  high  schools  were  preparing  for  a  college  course 
of  the  old  type.  If  they  had  had  to  depend  upon  the 
college  alone  for  their  liberal  studies,  they  would  have 


102  THE  AMERICAN  COLLEGE 

known  nothing  of  them.  Moreover,  secondary-school 
teaching  nowadays  compares  very  favorably  with 
college  teaching.  The  best  secondary  schools  have 
scholarly  teachers,  well-furnished  libraries,  and  well- 
equipped  laboratories  that  many  a  college  might  well 
envy.  Some  of  the  newer  subjects  are,  on  the  whole, 
taught  better  in  the  high  schools  than  in  many  colleges. 

These  are  my  reasons  for  believing  that  the  change 
which  has  raised  the  requirements  for  admission  to  col- 
lege is  a  good  one  and  a  permanent  one. 

While  this  change  has  been  taking  place,  the  colleges 
have  for  the  most  part  drifted.  Too  few  of  them  have 
followed  clearly  conceived  and  persistently  executed 
policies.  Most  of  them  have  been  simply  played  upon 
by  forces  from  without,  and  these  forces  have  been  re- 
ceived with  varying  degrees  of  stubbornness.  Hence 
the  chaos  of  standards  and  of  degrees  which  exists  at 
this  moment.  Where  the  requirements  for  admission 
have  been  raised  since  1860  by  two  years  of  work  and 
where  the  course  of  study  in  college  is  still  four  years 
long,  there  is  a  six-year  course  in  the  liberal  arts  and 
sciences  in  the  place  of  the  old  four-year  course. 
Where  the  requirements  for  admission  have  been 
raised,  and  the  years  spent  in  college  lessened  by  one, 
there  is  a  five-year  course  in  the  liberal  arts  and  sciences 
in  place  of  the  old  four-year  course.  Where  the  re- 
quirements for  admission  have  been  raised  and  a 
four-year  course  in  college  maintained,  one  or  two 
years  of  which  are  given  to  professional  studies,  there 
is  left  a  four-year  or  a  five-year  course  (as  the  case 


THE  AMERICAN  COLLEGE  103 

may  be)  in  the  liberal  arts  and  sciences,  and  the  de- 
gree of  A.  B.  is  no  longer  given  wholly  for  work  in  arts, 
but  for  work  partly  in  arts  and  partly  in  professional 
studies.  In  some  cases  the  phrase  liberal  arts  and 
sciences  is  interpreted  broadly,  in  some  narrowly. 
Often  an  attempt  is  made  to  distinguish  between  the 
older  group  of  college  studies  and  the  newer  ones,  and 
degrees  of  bachelor  of  letters,  science,  and  philosophy 
have  been  introduced  to  mark  the  completion  of  the 
courses  other  than  the  traditional  one. 

Some  or  all  of  these  changes  and  developments  may 
be  decided  improvements  upon  the  older  order  of  things, 
but  the  point  I  wish  to  make  is  that  the  results  are  not 
colleges  or  college  courses  as  those  words  were  once 
used.  Discussions  of  the  new  in  terms  of  the  old  are 
futile  and  misleading  unless  the  terms  employed  are 
carefully  distinguished  and  defined.  In  current  dis- 
cussions and  debates  about  the  place  and  value  of  the 
college  there  is  easily  noticeable  a  good  deal  of  un- 
conscious juggling  with  words  and  an  equally  notice- 
able lack  of  acquaintance  with  the  facts  as  they  are. 
It  is  a  perfectly  defensible  position  to  hold  that  even 
with  the  raised  requirements  for  admission  the  college 
course  should  still  be  four  years  in  length,  but  this 
position  must  not  be  defended  by  appeals  to  the  old 
college  and  its  standards.  The  supporter  of  this 
position  is  not  a  conservative;  he  is  a  radical  innovator 
who  holds  that  a  six-year  course  is  now  necessary  in 
order  to  lay  the  basis  for  professional  studies  and  to 
make  the  preparation  for  life  for  which  four  years  for- 


104  THE  AMERICAN  COLLEGE 

merly  sufficed.  He  must  defend  his  new  plan  and  must 
prove  that  it  promotes  scholarship,  strengthens  char- 
acter, and  increases  the  influence  and  the  usefulness  of 
the  college  in  our  democratic  society.  If  he  can  do 
these  things  I,  for  one,  will  throw  in  my  lot  with  him 
without  hesitation.  If  he  cannot  prove  his  case,  then 
I  prefer  to  pursue  the  old  ideal  along  established  lines 
by  methods  adapted  to  our  new  knowledge  and  our 
wider  experience. 

As  I  view  the  facts,  the  traditional  American  college 
is  disappearing  before  our  eyes,  and  will,  unless  the 
disintegrating  influences  are  checked,  disappear  en- 
tirely in  another  generation  or  two.  What  we  shall 
have  left  will  be  either  an  agreeable  finishing  school, 
or  country  club,  for  the  sons  of  the  well-to-do,  or  a 
combination  of  academy  and  school  of  general  science. 
This,  again,  may  be  a  good  thing;  and  it  may,  on  the 
whole,  be  a  gain  rather  than  a  loss  to  assimilate  our 
educational  system  to  those  of  continental  Europe  by 
eliminating  the  college  as  the  connecting-link  between 
secondary  school  and  university.  But  those  who  so 
hold  must  not  argue  in  the  name  of  the  college  which 
they  would  destroy.  They  must  defend  the  early 
specialization  involved  in  putting — or  rather  in  keep- 
ing— the  professional  and  technical  schools  right  on 
top  of  the  secondary  school.  They  must  defend  the 
transformation  of  the  American  college  into  a  univer- 
sity faculty  of  philosophy.  It  is  because  I  do  not  be- 
lieve that  either  defense  can  be  successful  that  I  differ 
with  those  who  attempt  these  things,  and  prefer  to 


TEE  AMERICAN  COLLEGE  105 

make  a  struggle  to  retain  the  American  college  as 
such. 

The  two  most  active  and  dangerous  foes  of  the  Amer- 
ican college  to-day  appear  to  me  to  be  those  who  regard 
a  secondary-school  training  as  adequate  preparation  for 
professional  and  technical  study  in  a  university,  and 
those  who,  mistaking  the  form  for  the  substance,  in- 
sist that  the  course  of  collegiate  study  must  be  four 
years  or  nothing,  unless  it  be  that  an  especially  hard- 
working student  is  permitted  to  squeeze  four  years' 
work  into  three. 

The  former  sacrifice  the  ideal  to  the  commercial  and 
the  material,  and  make  every  school  of  law,  medicine, 
divinity,  and  technology  in  the  land  a  competitor  of 
the  college.  The  college  cannot  stand  that  sort  of 
competition  indefinitely,  and  our  life  will  be  the  poorer 
and  the  narrower  if  it  goes. 

The  latter,  by  transforming  the  college  into  a  uni- 
versity, at  least  for  the  latter  half  of  its  course,  not  only 
radically  alter  the  college  training  and  the  college  de- 
gree considered  as  ends  in  themselves,  but  also  put 
the  college  in  a  position  where  it  is  economically  im- 
possible and,  from  the  view-point  of  social  service  and 
educational  effectiveness,  unwise  to  require  the  com- 
pletion of  its  course  as  a  prerequisite  to  professional 
and  technical  study.  In  only  four  professional  schools 
has  this  been  done,  two  schools  of  law  and  two  schools 
of  medicine;  and  already,  I  am  told,  expressions  of 
dissatisfaction,  or  incomplete  satisfaction,  with  the  re- 
sult are  heard.  The  fact  that  the  policy  is  indefensible 


106  THE  AMERICAN  COLLEGE 

is  clearly  shown  by  the  tendency  to  permit  so-called 
college  students  to  pursue  professional  studies  for  one 
or  two  years  of  the  undergraduate  course.  This  is  an 
elaborate  evasion  of  the  issue,  and  one  by  which  the 
degree  of  A.  B.  is  made  either  meaningless  as  an  arts 
degree  or  else  one  given  for  the  completion  of  a  two 
or  a  three  year  course  in  the  liberal  arts  and  sciences, 
and  not  for  one  of  four  years. 

Again  I  say  that  these  new  conditions  may  conceiv- 
ably be  better  than  those  which  they  displace.  But,  if 
so,  the  American  college  is  gone  and  in  its  place  has 
come  a  new  and  different  institution,  no  matter  what 
its  name,  and  the  baccalaureate  degree  is  hereafter  to 
be  a  university  and  not  a  college  degree.  It  seems  to 
me  to  be  perfectly  clear  that  in  this  case  the  small 
college  will  eventually  disappear  utterly,  even  though 
the  name  survives.  The  collegiate  or  academical  de- 
partment of  a  university  will  continue  in  a  position  of 
increasing  insignificance — save  where  maintained  for 
a  longer  or  a  shorter  time  by  special  causes — as  an 
American  shadow  of  a  German  faculty  of  philosophy. 

Probably  few  or  none  of  us  wish  for  any  such  develop- 
ment as  this.  Least  of  all  is  it  wished  for  by  those  who 
insist  so  strongly  upon  the  maintenance,  at  all  haz- 
ards, of  a  four-year  college  course  and  the  existing 
standards  of  admission;  yet  it  is  the  almost  certain  re- 
sult of  the  policy  which  they  are  now  pressing  upon  us. 
Mistaking  words  for  things,  they  are  striking  heavy 
blows  at  that  which  they  would  like  to  protect.  They 
should  realize  the  force  of  the  statement  of  Francis 


THE  AMERICAN  COLLEGE  107 

Wayland,  even  truer  now  than  when  made  sixty  years 
ago:  "There  is  nothing  magical  or  imperative  in  the 
term  of  four  years,  nor  has  it  any  natural  relation  to  a 
course  of  study.  It  was  adopted  as  a  matter  of  ac- 
cident; and  can  have,  of  itself,  no  important  bearing 
on  the  subject  in  hand." 

I  want  to  retain  the  college  not  alone  as  the  vestibule 
to  the  university  where  scholars  are  trained  and  where 
men  master  the  elements  of  the  professional  knowl- 
edge required  in  the  practice  of  law,  medicine,  teaching, 
engineering,  and  other  similar  callings,  but  as  the 
school  wherein  men  are  made  ready  for  the  work  of 
life.  If  the  college  is  wisely  guided  these  next  twenty- 
five  years,  its  students  who  are  looking  forward  to 
active  business  careers  after  graduation  ought  far  to 
exceed  in  number  those  who  choose  scholarship  or  a 
learned  profession  as  a  career.  For  such  students  the 
college  will  be  all  in  all;  and  with  no  university  course 
or  professional  school  to  look  forward  to,  the  college 
will  be  the  one  centre  of  their  academic  memories  and 
affections.  But  to  draw  such  students  and  to  hold 
them  in  large  numbers,  and  so  to  impress  itself  upon 
the  country  as  effectively  in  the  future  as  in  the  past, 
the  college  must  be  really  a  college  and  leave  off  try- 
ing to  be  a  university.  This  means  that  it  must  come 
back  into  its  own  natural  and  most  useful  place. 

Plans  to  bring  this  about  have  been  proposed.  Most 
of  them  aim  at  shortening  the  time  devoted  to  the 
course  of  the  new  college,  and  so  at  getting  rid  of  one 
or  two  of  the  extra  years  that  have  been  put  on  to  the 


io8  THE  AMERICAN  COLLEGE 

course  in  liberal  arts  and  sciences  since  1860.  The 
reasons  why  any  lowering  of  the  standard  of  admis- 
sion to  college  would  be  against  the  public  interest,  I 
have  already  stated.  Three  different  plans  of  getting 
through  with  the  college  course  in  three  years  instead 
of  in  four  have  been  suggested.  The  first  is  to  reduce 
the  amount  of  work  required  for  the  degree  so  that  it 
can  be  readily  completed  in  three  years.  This  is  the 
plan  at  Harvard  College,  where  the  twenty-one  courses 
required  for  the  A.  B.  degree  in  1880  have  been  dis- 
placed by  a  requirement  of  seventeen  and  one-half 
courses,  one  and  one-half  of  which  may  be  anticipated 
at  entrance.  The  second  is  to  permit  a  student  to  take 
four  years'  work  in  three,  if  physically  and  mentally 
competent  to  do  so.  This  plan  seems  to  me  objection- 
able, in  that  it  throws  upon  the  student  rather  than 
upon  the  college  the  necessity  of  meeting  a  new  and 
involved  educational  situation.  It  also  tempts  some 
men  to  overwork,  others  to  loaf. 

The  third  plan,  and  the  one  which  commends  itself 
to  my  judgment,  is  to  recast  and  remodel  the  college 
course  entirely  on  a  two-year  or  a  three-year  basis  ac- 
cording to  the  standard  set — and  upheld — for  admis- 
sion. The  existing  four-year  course  cannot  be  squeezed 
and  pulled  into  a  two-year  or  a  three-year  shape.  It 
cannot  be  offered  to  one  student  on  one  set  of  con- 
ditions and  to  others  on  another  set.  There  must  be 
an  entire  reconstruction,  and  the  new  course,  whether 
it  occupy  two  years  or  three,  must  have  a  unity,  a  pro- 
portion, and  a  definiteness  of  its  own.  It  must  be  a 


THE  AMERICAN  COLLEGE  109 

pyramid  with  a  new  altitude,  and  not  the  old  pyramid 
truncated.  It  must  be  built  of  the  best  of  the  old 
bricks  with  plenty  of  new  ones  added  thereto. 

It  should  be  borne  in  mind,  too,  that,  contrary  to  the 
hypothesis  of  some  critics,  the  new  and  shortened  col- 
lege course  is  not  at  all  the  result  of  the  widely  preva- 
lent tendency  to  hurry  or  to  "hustle,"  nor  is  it  sug- 
gested only  by  the  needs  of  the  professional  schools 
in  the  great  universities.  It  will,  I  think,  displace  the 
longer  course  because  it  is  intellectually,  ethically, 
and  educationally  better.  It  will  train  better  men  and 
render  greater  public  service  than  will  the  present 
spun-out  four-year  course  with  its  inclusion  of  almost 
every  subject  of  study  known  to  man.  There  is  no 
more  obvious  psychological  fallacy  than  to  suppose 
that  the  longer  the  time  spent  in  getting  an  education, 
the  better  the  results.  The  chances  are  that  the  con- 
trary is  true.  Habits  of  dawdling,  drifting,  and  incom- 
plete and  unconcentrated  attention  persisted  in  from 
sixteen  or  eighteen  to  twenty  or  twenty-two  years  of 
age  will  weaken  any  but  the  very  strongest  minds  and 
characters.  Less  time  better  used  is  a  useful  motto 
for  the  colleges  to  adopt. 

In  the  reconstruction  which  is  just  beginning,  in  the 
effort  to  get  back  the  American  college  and  to  keep  it, 
much  depends  upon  enforcing  a  sound  and  helpful 
standard  for  admission  to  college.  This  has  been,  and 
in  many  cases  is  yet,  the  most  difficult  part  of  the 
problem  to  deal  with.  But  the  progress  of  the  past 
few  years  is  astonishing  and  full  of  promise.  Co- 


no  THE  AMERICAN  COLLEGE 

operation  between  colleges  and  between  colleges  and 
schools  has  given  us  the  College  Entrance  Examination 
Board,  whose  uplifting  and  steadying  influence  is  felt 
everywhere.  Through  it  the  secondary  schools  learn 
what  to  aim  at,  and  the  colleges  learn  what  to  expect 
and  insist  upon.  The  enormous  educational  advan- 
tages of  an  examination  are  gained,  while  the  difficul- 
ties and  dangers  of  examinations  which  repress  and 
depress  good  teaching  are  reduced  to  a  minimum. 

It  will  be  seen,  therefore,  that  I  am  hopeful  that  or- 
der is  to  come  out  of  the  present  chaos,  that  the  real 
facts  of  the  existing  complicated  situation  will  be  rec- 
ognized, and  that  an  educational  reconstruction  can 
be  effected  that  will  save  the  college  for  a  new  period 
of  service  to  the  highest  ideals  of  the  American  people. 


VIII 
THE  ACADEMIC  CAREER 


From  the  Annual  Report  as  president  of  Columbia  University, 
June  30,  1910 


THE  ACADEMIC  CAREER 

The  large  increase  in  compensation  to  the  teaching 
staff  which  has  been  made  during  the  last  few  years 
has  done  inestimable  good.  The  money  spent  upon 
these  advances  in  compensation,  representing  as  it  does 
the  annual  income  at  4  per  cent  on  about  three  million 
dollars,  is  one  more  evidence  of  the  generous  and 
thoughtful  care  which  the  trustees  have  exhibited 
from  the  earliest  days  of  King's  College  for  the  com- 
fort and  satisfaction  of  the  teaching  staff.  It  is  doubt- 
ful whether  ever  before  any  similar  action  of  equal 
magnitude  has  been  taken  by  those  charged  with  the 
government  of  a  university.  Indeed,  while  much  re- 
mains to  be  done  to  adjust  salaries  to  the  new  stand- 
ards and  cost  of  living,  it  may  fairly  be  said  that  the 
happenings  of  the  past  decade  have  made  the  lot  of  a 
member  of  the  permanent  teaching  staff  of  Columbia 
University  one  that  is  indeed  fortunate.  In  addition  to 
the  enjoyment  of  the  privilege  of  devoting  several 
months  each  year  to  rest,  recreation,  or  private  study 
and  writing,  he  has  been  relieved  of  much  drudgery 
and  routine  work  that  were  formerly  laid  upon  him; 
he  has  in  very  many  cases  been  advanced  in  compensa- 
tion from  20  to  50  per  cent;  he  has  been  given  the  privi- 
lege of  leave  of  absence  during  half  of  every  seventh 
year  without  sacrifice  of  pay,  if  he  prefers  this  plan  to 

113 


n4  THE  ACADEMIC  CAREER 

taking  a  full  year's  leave  of  absence  on  half-pay;  he 
has  been  provided  with  a  retiring  allowance  in  case  of 
old  age  or  disability,  and,  under  certain  circumstances, 
his  widow,  should  he  die  leaving  one,  is  also  taken  care 
of.  It  may  be  that  there  is  some  other  career  that  is 
equally  fortunate,  but  if  so  the  fact  does  not  appear  to 
obtrude  itself  upon  the  public  attention. 

When  colleges  were  small  and  universities  non- 
existent it  was  possible — but  very  unusual — to  have 
a  faculty  composed  throughout  of  men  of  exceptional 
ability  and  distinction.  The  rapid  growth  and  multi- 
plication of  colleges  and  universities,  however,  has 
necessarily  drawn  into  their  service  men  of  every  type 
and  kind,  and  of  these  mediocrity  has  claimed  its  full 
share.  One  main  difficulty  with  which  the  higher  in- 
stitutions of  learning  throughout  the  world  have  to 
struggle  to-day  is  militant  mediocrity.  Distinction  is 
to  be  sought  for  at  whatever  cost  and  strong,  guiding 
personalities  cannot  be  too  numerous.  But  at  Berlin, 
at  Paris,  and  at  Oxford,  no  less  than  at  Columbia,  the 
searching  question  is  being  asked,  where  are  to  be 
found  fit  successors  to  the  scholars  of  the  generation 
that  is  now  passing  off  the  stage  ?  Many  are  sought, 
but  few  are  found. 

There  is  room  in  a  great  university  for  scholars 
of  every  conceivable  type.  The  recluse  and  the 
dreamer  has  his  place  as  well  as  the  practical  man 
who  unites  a  love  of  scholarship  with  skill  in  affairs 
and  who  brings  the  two  into  constant  relation  to  each 
other.  A  poem,  a  musical  composition,  or  a  new  syn- 


THE  ACADEMIC  CAREER  115 

thesis  in  the  higher  reaches  of  pure  mathematics 
brings  lustre  to  a  university,  as  does  a  new  invention 
in  the  field  of  engineering,  a  new  discovery  in  the 
laboratory,  or  a  new  application  of  old  principles  to 
present  economic  and  political  needs.  Freedom  of  the 
spirit  is  the  essence  of  a  university's  life.  Whatever 
else  is  done  or  left  undone,  that  freedom  must  be  made 
secure. 

But  freedom  imposes  responsibility,  and  there  are 
distinct  limitations,  which  ought  to  be  self-imposed, 
upon  that  academic  freedom  which  was  won  at  so 
great  a  cost,  and  which  has  produced  such  noble  re- 
sults. These  are  the  limitations  imposed  by  common 
morality,  common  sense,  common  loyalty,  and  a  decent 
respect  for  the  opinions  of  mankind.  A  teacher  or 
investigator  who  offends  against  common  morality  has 
destroyed  his  academic  usefulness,  whatever  may  be 
his  intellectual  attainments.  A  teacher  who  offends 
against  the  plain  dictates  of  common  sense  is  in  like 
situation.  A  teacher  who  cannot  give  to  the  institu- 
tion which  maintains  him  common  loyalty  and  that 
kind  of  service  which  loyalty  implies  ought  not  to  be 
retained  through  fear  of  clamor  or  of  criticism.  Then, 
too,  a  university  teacher  owes  a  decent  respect  to  the 
opinions  of  mankind.  Men  who  feel  that  their  per- 
sonal convictions  require  them  to  treat  the  mature 
opinion  of  the  civilized  world  without  respect  or  with 
contempt  may  well  be  given  an  opportunity  to  do  so 
from  private  station  and  without  the  added  influence 
and  prestige  of  a  university's  name. 


n6  THE  ACADEMIC  CAREER 

To  state  these  fundamental  principles  is,  however, 
more  easy  than  to  apply  them,  for  the  answers  that 
are  made  when  these  principles  are  urged  are  so  spe- 
cious and  the  appeals  to  prejudice  that  follow  are  all 
so  plausible  that  their  application  requires  courage 
no  less  than  wisdom.  No  university  can  maintain  its 
position  if  its  official  action  appears  to  be  guided  by 
prejudice  and  narrowness  of  vision.  Nevertheless, 
the  historical  development  of  the  human  race  can 
hardly  be  wholly  without  significance,  and  there  must 
be  some  reasonable  presumption  that  what  has  been 
and  is  need  not  always  take  a  subordinate  and  inferior 
place  to  that  which  is  proposed  for  the  immediate 
future  but  is  yet  untested  and  untried.  It  ought  not 
to  escape  notice,  however,  that  most  of  the  increas- 
ingly numerous  abuses  of  academic  freedom  are  due 
simply  to  bad  manners  and  to  lack  of  ordinary  tact 
and  judgment. 

It  is  the  responsibility  of  the  trustees  to  give  to  aca- 
demic freedom  that  constant  and  complete  protection 
which  it  must  have  if  the  true  university  spirit  is  to  be 
fostered  and  preserved,  and  at  the  same  time  to  main- 
tain the  integrity  of  the  charge  committed  to  their 
care.  This  must  be  done  without  either  fear  or  favor, 
whatever  the  consequences  may  be. 


IX 
DIFFERENT  TYPES  OF  ACADEMIC  TEACHER 


From  the  Annual  Report  as  president  of  Columbia  University, 
June  30,  1919 


DIFFERENT  TYPES  OF  ACADEMIC  TEACHER 

It  is  quite  usual  to  hear  criticism  levelled  against 
an  academic  teacher  for  not  combining  in  himself  the 
two  very  distinct  characteristics  of  teaching  skill  and 
scholarly  initiative  in  research.  This  criticism  is  un- 
fair and  ought  not  to  go  longer  unanswered.  Of  great 
teachers  there  are  not  very  many  in  a  generation,  and 
nothing  is  more  certain  than  that  such  are  born  and 
not  made.  Of  good  teachers  there  are,  on  the  other 
hand,  a  fair  supply.  These  are  the  men  and  women 
who,  by  reason  of  sound  if  sometimes  partial  knowledge, 
orderly-mindedness,  skill  in  simple  and  clear  presenta- 
tion, and  a  gift  of  sympathy,  are  able  to  stimulate 
youth  to  study  and  to  think.  To  find  fault  with  such 
man  or  woman  because  he  or  she  is  not  able  to  make 
important  contributions  to  knowledge  is  wholly  be- 
side the  mark.  Very  few  persons  are  able  to  make 
important  contributions  to  knowledge,  and  such  persons 
are  only  in  the  rarest  instances  good  teachers.  It  is 
very  often  true  that  the  most  distinguished  scholars 
and  men  of  science  in  a  university  are  among  its  poorest 
teachers.  The  reason  is  simple.  Their  intellectual  in- 
terests lie  elsewhere  and  they  have  neither  the  mental 
energy  nor  the  fund  of  human  sympathy  to  give  to 
struggling  and  often  ill-prepared  youth  who  may  come 
to  them  for  instruction  and  advice.  Once  in  a  long 

119 


120  DIFFERENT  TYPES 

while  there  appears  a  Huxley,  or  a  Du  Bois-Reymond, 
or  a  William  G.  Sumner,  but  the  number  of  such  is 
sadly  few.  It  may  be  said  of  many  great  scholars  as 
Mrs.  Humphry  Ward  recently  wrote  of  Bishop 
Stubbs,  probably  the  greatest  name  among  the  Eng- 
lish historians  during  the  latter  half  of  the  nineteenth 
century:  "He  had  no  gifts — it  was  his  chief  weakness 
as  a  teacher — for  creating  a  young  school  around  him, 
setting  one  young  man  to  work  on  this  job,  and  an- 
other on  that,  as  has  been  done  with  great  success  in 
many  instances  abroad.  He  was  too  reserved,  too 
critical,  perhaps  too  sensitive."  A  man  such  as  this 
may,  nevertheless,  have  great  influence  in  the  back- 
ground of  a  university  and  add  enormously  to  its  re- 
pute, despite  the  fact  that  his  work  is  almost  as  in- 
dividual as  if  it  were  done  in  his  own  study  in  a  remote 
village  apart  from  university  companionship  and  uni- 
versity association.  The  modern  university  will  be 
glad,  and  will  aim,  to  find  place  for  scholars  and  men 
of  science  of  each  of  these  types  and  of  every  type. 
There  is  plenty  of  opportunity  for  the  skilful  teacher 
who  is  not  especially  original  or  vigorous  in  research, 
and  there  is  always  opportunity  for  the  alert-minded 
man  of  high  imagination  and  great  power  of  concen- 
tration who  can  and  does  make  a  real  addition  to  the 
world's  knowledge.  On  the  other  hand,  quite  too  much 
attention  is  paid  to  those  who  when  they  make  some 
slight  addition  to  their  own  stock  of  information  fancy 
that  the  world's  store  of  knowledge  is  thereby  increased 
by  a  new  discovery. 


OF  ACADEMIC  TEACHER  121 

It  is  quite  fashionable  to  attack  university  teachers  as 
unduly  radical  and  revolutionary.  The  truth  is  that  the 
radicals  and  revolutionaries  among  them  are  so  few 
that  they  are  very  conspicuous.  The  university 
teacher,  on  the  contrary,  is  usually  very  conservative, 
very  solid-minded,  and  very  difficult  to  bring  to  the 
support  of  a  new  idea  or  a  new  project.  The  history 
of  the  development  of  any  important  university  will 
amply  illustrate  this  fact.  The  notion  that  some  uni- 
versity professors  are  dangerously  radical  because 
their  salaries  are  not  large  enough  is  more  than  usually 
uncomplimentary.  Such  a  view  pushes  the  economic 
interpretation  of  history  pretty  far.  The  man  who 
will  change  his  views  on  economic,  historical,  or  polit- 
ical subjects  because  his  salary  is  doubled  is  made  of 
pretty  poor  stuff,  and  the  views  of  such  a  man  need  not 
trouble  any  one  very  seriously. 

The  most  significant  thing  that  has  happened  to  the 
university  teacher  during  the  past  decade  is  the  num- 
ber and  variety  of  contacts  that  he  has  established 
with  the  practical  affairs  of  life.  These  contacts  were 
once  confined  to  the  teacher  of  law,  of  medicine,  or  of 
engineering.  They  are  now  shared  by  pretty  much  all 
types  of  university  teacher.  When  a  specialist  in  the 
Zend  Avesta  and  in  the  philosophy  of  the  Parsees  is 
sent  half-way  round  the  world  to  plan  relief  for  the 
suffering  population  of  Persia,  when  a  professor  of 
psychology  is  intrusted  with  the  task  of  framing  a  plan 
for  the  selection  of  officers  for  the  United  States  army, 
when  a  professor  of  electromechanics  is  set  to  hunting 


I22  DIFFERENT  TYPES 

the  submarine  in  association  with  the  officers  of  the 
United  States  navy,  when  a  professor  of  physiography 
is  first  sent  for  to  aid  the  general  staff  in  formulating 
a  plan  of  military  operations  on  the  field  of  battle  and 
is  then  set  to  deciding  where  the  boundary-line  be- 
tween two  reconstituted  nations  shall  run,  the  univer- 
sities are  getting  pretty  closely  in  touch  with  the  prac- 
tical events  of  the  time.  Moreover,  the  world  at  large 
is  showing  a  new  respect  for  men  who  have  spent  years 
in  scholarly  discipline  and  association.  The  President 
of  the  United  States  was  for  a  quarter  of  a  century  a 
teacher  of  history  and  political  science  in  three  col- 
leges; the  president  of  the  council  in  France  once 
taught  his  native  language  and  its  literature  to  a 
group  of  American  students  at  Stamford,  Connecticut; 
the  Prime  Minister  of  Italy  holds  the  chair  of  economics 
in  the  University  of  Naples;  the  first  president  of  the 
Czechoslovak  Republic  is  the  most  eminent  teacher  of 
philosophy  among  his  people;  one  university  professor 
has  just  resigned  as  American  minister  to  China  and 
another  is  still  serving  as  American  minister  to  Greece; 
and  so  it  goes  through  other  European  countries  and 
in  the  South  American  republics.  The  fact  of  the 
matter  is  that  the  university  teacher  has  some  time 
since  ceased  to  belong  to  a  class  apart,  to  an  isolated 
group  leading  a  life  carefully  protected  and  hedged 
about  from  contact  with  the  world  of  affairs.  The  uni- 
versity teacher  is  everywhere  as  adviser,  as  guide,  as 
administrator;  and  as  his  personal  service  extends  over 
a  constantly  widening  field,  so  his  influence  marks  the 


OF  ACADEMIC  TEACHER  123 

increasing  interpenetration  of  the  university  and  prac- 
tical life.  Indeed,  there  is  no  better  training  in  prac- 
tical affairs  than  that  which  the  business  of  a  modern 
university  affords. 


X 

METHODS  OF  UNIVERSITY  TEACHING 


From  the  Annual  Report  as  president  of  Columbia  University, 
June  30,  1907 


METHODS  OF  UNIVERSITY  TEACHING 

There  is  a  marked  and  healthy  tendency  among 
university  teachers  to  lay  less  stress  than  formerly 
upon  differences  of  opinion  as  to  the  relative  value  and 
importance  of  different  subjects  of  study,  and  to  de- 
vote more  thought  to  questions  connected  with  the 
most  effective  presentation  to  students  of  the  subject- 
matter  in  any  given  part  of  the  field  of  knowledge. 
It  is  the  part  of  wisdom  not  only  to  permit,  but  to 
encourage,  wide  diversity  of  method  on  the  part  of 
university  teachers,  in  order  that  the  personality  of 
each  teacher  may  express  itself  most  directly  and  most 
effectively  in  its  contact  with  students.  Methods  of 
teaching  are  more  largely  dependent  upon  the  in- 
dividual teacher  than  is  often  realized,  and  while  cer- 
tain fundamental  principles  governing  all  teaching 
appear  to  be  established  as  the  result  of  study  and 
experience,  yet  when  an  attempt  is  made  to  carry  uni- 
formity into  matters  of  detail  the  result  is  generally 
failure. 

In  those  branches  of  natural  science  which  afford 
opportunity  for  experiment  as  well  as  for  observation, 
laboratory  methods  of  teaching  have  gradually  de- 
veloped that  are  particularly  excellent  by  reason  of 
three  characteristics.  They  bring  the  student  in  touch 
with  concrete  facts,  they  afford  opportunity  for  the 

127 


128      METHODS  OF  UNIVERSITY  TEACHING 

adaptation  of  the  work  to  the  needs  and  capacity  of 
the  individual  student,  and  they  bring  student  and 
teacher  into  close  personal  association. 

These  three  characteristics  of  laboratory  instruction 
might  with  some  care  be  carried  over  to  instruction  in 
quite  other  subjects.  The  parrot-like  repetition  of 
passages  memorized  from  a  text  has  largely  disappeared 
from  college  teaching  and  is  not  to  be  found  in  the 
universities.  Unfortunately,  however,  the  substitute 
which  has  been  too  often  found  for  the  old  repetition 
from  a  text-book  is  the  lecture  system  which  has  so 
largely  characterized,  and  still  characterizes,  the  work 
of  the  German  university.  Of  lectures  as  a  mode  of 
imparting  knowledge,  Mr.  Benson,  in  his  delightful 
essays  entitled  From  a  College  Window,  truly  says: 

They  belong  to  the  days  when  books  were  few  and  expensive; 
when  few  persons  could  acquire  a  library  of  their  own;  when  lec- 
turers accumulated  knowledge  that  was  not  the  property  of  the 
world;  when  notes  were  laboriously  copied  and  handed  on;  when 
one  of  the  joys  of  learning  was  the  consciousness  of  possessing  se- 
crets not  known  to  other  men. 

The  value  of  the  lecture  as  a  method  of  instruction 
lies  in  the  opportunity  it  affords  for  the  expression  of 
the  personality  of  the  teacher.  Its  limitations  are  due 
to  the  attempt  to  rely  wholly  upon  the  lecture  for  im- 
parting the  desired  information.  The  lecture,  if  based 
upon  a  text  or  a  syllabus  in  the  hands  of  the  hearers, 
of  which  text  or  syllabus  the  lecture  is  an  exposition, 
or  if  accompanied  with  or  followed  by  discussion  of 


METHODS  OF  UNIVERSITY  TEACHING       129 

the  material  expounded,  has  great  usefulness.  Un- 
fortunately, however,  too  many  university  teachers 
rely  wholly  upon  the  lecture,  without  any  of  these  ad- 
ditional aids,  and  they  are  not  always  careful  to  see 
that  their  recommendations  as  to  collateral  reading 
and  study  are  followed  by  the  students.  The  result  is 
that  by  the  promiscuous  use  of  the  lecture  system  there 
is  an  enormous  waste  of  power  and  a  great  loss  of  op- 
portunity. The  power  of  the  teacher  is  largely  wasted 
because  under  these  circumstances  he  is  able  to  reach 
and  stimulate  only  the  most  intelligent  and  devoted 
students.  There  is  a  loss  of  opportunity  because,  by 
more  personal  and  intimate  methods  of  presenting  the 
subject-matter  of  instruction,  the  teacher  might  easily 
reach  all  the  students  who  elect  to  follow  his  instruc- 
tion. In  some  cases 'where  the  group  of  students  at- 
tending any  given  academic  exercise  is  small,  a  num- 
ber of  university  teachers  have  hit  upon  very  personal 
and  almost  ideal  methods  of  giving  their  guidance  and 
instruction.  As  soon,  however,  as  the  group  becomes 
moderately  large,  there  is  a  tendency  to  have  recourse 
to  the  lecture  alone,  and  the  evils  which  have  already 
been  pointed  out  follow  promptly  in  its  train. 

Undoubtedly,  the  university  as  a  whole  might  do 
much  to  improve  the  methods  of  teaching  followed  by 
the  staff  of  instruction.  For  example,  it  could,  if 
means  were  at  hand,  provide  for  each  department 
which  deals  with  a  literary,  a  linguistic,  an  historical, 
an  economic,  or  a  philosophical  subject,  equipment 
similar  to  that  which  is  provided  for  the  study  of 


130      METHODS  OF  UNIVERSITY  TEACHING 

mathematics  and  the  experimental  sciences.  It  could 
bring  together  in  one  building  or  in  one  group  of  rooms 
the  books  and  illustrative  apparatus  useful  for  the 
presentation  of  a  given  subject  and  thereby  put  the 
teachers  of  these  subjects  in  very  much  the  same  posi- 
tion as  that  occupied  by  the  teacher  who  has  provided 
for  his  use  a  well-equipped  laboratory. 

It  may  be,  too,  that  our  university  legislation  is  open 
to  criticism  for  compelling  each  student  to  divide  his 
attention  among  too  many  subjects  of  study.  At  the 
time  when  this  legislation  was  adopted,  there  was  fear 
lest  in  the  newly  organized  university,  students  would 
specialize  unduly.  It  is  at  least  open  to  debate  whether 
as  a  result  of  this  legislation  they  are  not  now  com- 
pelled to  scatter  their  intellectual  energies  unprofit- 
ably. 


XI 
COLLEGE  AND  UNIVERSITY  TEACHING 


From  the  Annual  Report  as  president  of  Columbia  University, 
June  30,  1914 


COLLEGE  AND  UNIVERSITY  TEACHING 

An  ever-present  question  in  an  institution  of  the 
higher  learning  is  how  to  interest  officers  of  instruction 
in  the  subject  of  education.  They  are  certain  to  be 
interested  each  in  his  own  particular  branch  of  study, 
but  much  too  few  of  them  are  interested  in  education 
itself.  The  consequence  is  that  the  teaching  of  many 
very  famous  men  is  distinctly  poor;  sometimes  it  is 
even  worse.  This  results  in  part  from  the  breakdown 
of  the  general  educational  process  into  a  variety  of 
highly  specialized  activities,  and  in  part  from  the 
carelessness  of  college  teachers  as  to  everything  which 
affects  a  student's  manners,  speech,  conduct,  and 
sense  of  proportion,  provided  only  he  gets  hold  of  cer- 
tain facts  which  the  teacher  desires  to  communicate. 
It  is  also  due  in  large  part  to  the  bad  tradition  which 
so  largely  prevents  the  inspection  and  supervision  of 
the  work  of  young  teachers  by  their  elders.  At  one 
time  the  professor  of  mathematics  in  Columbia  College 
made  a  practice  of  visiting  the  classroom  of  each  one 
of  his  junior  officers  at  least  once  in  each  week.  He 
observed  the  discipline,  the  order,  and  the  general 
attitude  of  the  class.  He  intervened  in  the  instruc- 
tion when  he  felt  moved  to  do  so.  He  made  sugges- 
tions and,  if  necessary,  after  the  exercise  was  over 
he  gave  private  criticism  to  the  junior  instructor. 

'3? 


134     COLLEGE  AND  UNIVERSITY  TEACHING 

In  this  way  the  younger  man  was  helped  by  the  ex- 
perience and  skill  of  his  elder.  To-day  such  a  practice 
is  almost  unheard  of,  either  in  Columbia  College  or  in 
any  other  college.  With  the  exception  of  one  or  two 
departments  in  which  better  practices  prevail,  it  is 
usual  for  even  the  youngest  of  instructors  to  be  shut 
up  in  the  classroom  with  a  company  of  students  and 
left  to  his  own  devices.  The  damage  he  may  do  in 
learning  what  teaching  is  all  about  is  not  infrequently 
irreparable,  but  no  older  or  more  experienced  head  is  at 
hand  to  counsel  and  to  direct  him.  In  this  way  many 
men  grow  up  to  be  poor  teachers  without  knowing  it. 
They  are  conscious  of  growing  in  scholarly  power  and 
in  acquired  knowledge  and  they  readily  confuse  these 
facts  with  increase  in  teaching  skill. 

The  late  Colonel  Francis  W.  Parker  once  dedi- 
cated a  text-book  "to  all  teachers  who  thought- 
fully and  thoroughly  prepare  every  lesson."  Herein 
lies  the  secret  of  really  good  teaching.  The  prepara- 
tion of  every  lesson,  however  familiar  its  subject- 
matter,  is  the  sure  protection  against  mechanical 
routine  and  dry-as-dust  lecturing.  This  applies  equally 
to  instruction  by  lecture,  by  laboratory  work,  or  by 
classroom  teaching  and  discussion.  The  first  act  of  a 
really  good  college  teacher  is  to  explain  to  his  class 
what  it  is  proposed  to  accomplish  by  the  particular 
course  of  instruction  for  which  they  are  assembled, 
what  methods  are  to  be  followed  and  why,  and  also 
why  a  particular  subject-matter  has  been  chosen. 
These  opening  explanations  are  as  necessary  to  the 


COLLEGE  AND  UNIVERSITY  TEACHING      135 

intelligent  student  as  is  a  chart  to  a  sailor.  The  col- 
lege student  cannot  be  expected  to  guess  correctly  at 
the  aim  or  purpose  of  a  particular  course  of  instruction 
or  to  find  at  once  a  satisfactory  explanation  of  the  sub- 
ject-matter that  is  presented  to  him  for  mastery.  To 
throw  a  child  into  deep  water  as  a  first  lesson  in  swim- 
ming is  not  intelligent  and  usually  leads  to  disaster. 
The  student  should  always  be  told,  before  setting  out 
on  one  of  these  intellectual  voyages  of  discovery,  what 
haven  is  his  goal  and  what  route  is  to  be  taken  to 
reach  it.  After  this  has  been  done,  the  good  college 
teacher  will  have  something  to  say  of  the  literature  of 
the  subject,  of  those  books  that  will  be  found  most 
helpful  and  illuminating,  and  of  how  they  are  to  be 
judged  and  estimated  relatively  to  one  another.  He 
will  then  address  himself  to  the  task,  not  of  lecturing 
or  of  quizzing,  but  of  actual  teaching.  A  college  class 
that  is  being  well  taught  as  a  group  is  alert  and  at- 
tentive and  every  member  of  the  group  is  in  full  co- 
operation with  the  other  members  and  with  the  teacher. 
Facts  are  being  transformed  into  factors  of  knowledge, 
interpretations  are  being  developed  and  made  clear, 
and  criticisms  are  being  fairly  and  frankly  dealt  with, 
there  being  complete  co-operation  and  participation 
between  teacher  and  taught.  It  is  not  good  college 
teaching  when  the  instructor  merely  lectures  to  his 
class,  much  less  so  when  he  drones  to  them.  It  is  not 
good  class  teaching  when  the  instructor  deals  with  one 
student  at  a  time,  leaving  the  rest  of  the  group  listless 
and  inattentive  and  awaiting  what  is  oddly  called  their 


136      COLLEGE  AND  UNIVERSITY  TEACHING 

"turn."  In  the  laboratories,  the  best  teaching  is  now 
wholly  individual.  There  is  to  be  found  what  is  known 
as  constant  elbow-touch  between  the  instructor  and 
each  one  of  his  students.  Every  student  has  his  own 
particular  task  and  he  works  diligently  upon  it,  under 
certain  fixed  restrictions  as  to  time  and  material,  with 
a  competent  instructor  at  his  elbow  for  guidance,  for 
criticism,  and  for  suggestion.  As  the  student  grows  in 
maturity  and  power  of  self-direction,  teaching  natu- 
rally tends  to  become  more  and  more  individual  until, 
in  the  advanced  work  of  the  university,  the  very  best 
instruction  in  any  subject  closely  resembles  the  elbow- 
touch  teaching  of  the  laboratory. 

The  two  mistakes  into  which  college  teachers  are 
most  likely  to  fall  are,  first,  that  of  failing  to  give  the 
students  such  preliminary  and  introductory  explana- 
tions as  will  serve  as  an  adequate  chart  for  the  voyage 
to  be  undertaken;  and,  second,  that  of  confusing  the 
logical  with  the  psychological  order  in  the  presenta- 
tion of  facts.  The  really  good  teacher  knows  that  the 
logical  order  is  the  result  of  mature  reflection  and 
close  analysis  of  a  large  body  of  related  phenomena, 
and  he  knows  too  that  this  comes  late  in  the  history 
of  intellectual  development.  He  knows  also  that  the 
psychological  order — the  true  order  for  the  teacher 
to  follow — is  the  one  which  is  fixed  by  the  intrinsic 
interest  and  practical  significance  of  the  phenomena 
in  question.  The  good  teacher  will  not  try  to  force 
the  logical  order  of  facts  or  phenomena  upon  the  im- 
mature student.  He  will  present  these  facts  or  phe- 


COLLEGE  AND  UNIVERSITY  TEACHING   137 

nomena  to  him  in  their  psychological  order  and  so 
give  him  the  material  with  which  to  understand,  when 
his  knowledge  is  sufficiently  complete,  the  logical 
order  and  all  that  it  means.  The  notion  that  one  who 
is  a  master  of  a  subject  is  thereby  of  necessity  a  good 
teacher  of  that  subject  is  only  less  misleading  and 
mischievous  than  the  notion  that  a  subject  may  be 
adequately  and  properly  taught  by  one  who  has  elab- 
orate knowledge  of  the  technic  and  machinery  of 
teaching  but  whose  hold  on  the  subject-matter  to  be 
taught  is  very  shaky  indeed. 

A  matter  that  is  closely  related  to  poor  teaching  is 
found  in  the  growing  tendency  of  college  and  uni- 
versity departments  to  vocationalize  all  their  instruc- 
tion. A  given  department  will  plan  all  its  courses  of 
instruction  solely  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  stu- 
dent who  is  going  to  specialize  in  that  field.  It  is 
increasingly  difficult  to  secure  good  courses  of  instruc- 
tion for  those  who  have  the  very  proper  desire  to  gain 
some  real  knowledge  of  a  given  topic  without  intend- 
ing to  become  specialists  in  it.  A  university  depart- 
ment is  not  well  organized  and  is  not  doing  its  duty 
until  it  establishes  and  maintains  at  least  one  strong 
substantial  university  course  designed  primarily  for 
students  of  maturity  and  power,  which  course  will  be 
an  end  in  itself  and  will  present  to  th.ose  who  take  it 
a  general  view  of  the  subject-matter  of  a  designated 
field  of  knowledge,  its  methods,  its  literature,  and  its 
results.  It  should  be  possible  for  an  advanced  student 
specializing  in  some  other  field  to  gain  a  general  knowl- 


138      COLLEGE  AND  UNIVERSITY   TEACHING 

edge  of  physical  problems  and  processes  without  be- 
coming a  physicist;  or  a  general  knowledge  of  chem- 
ical problems  and  processes  without  becoming  a  chem- 
ist; or  a  general  knowledge  of  zoological  problems  and 
processes  without  becoming  a  zoologist;  or  a  general 
knowledge  of  mathematical  problems  and  processes 
without  becoming  a  mathematician.  The  reply  that 
knowledge  has  become  so  highly  specialized  that  no 
one  can  be  found  to  give  such  courses  of  instruction  is 
the  saddest  confession  of  incompetence  and  educational 
failure  that  can  possibly  be  made.  It  ought  not  to  be 
made  except  under  cover  of  darkness. 

It  is  worthy  of  note  that  while  difficulties  are  found 
in  providing  general  courses  of  instruction  of  the  kind 
described  to  deal  with  a  given  and  limited  field  of 
knowledge,  there  is  apparently  no  particular  difficulty 
in  finding  courses  that  in  limpid  and  desultory  fashion 
deal  with  everything  in  the  heavens  above,  in  the  earth 
beneath,  and  in  the  waters  under  the  earth.  Last  year 
a  graduate  student  who  was  about  to  leave  an  Amer- 
ican university  made  the  statement  that  he  had  at- 
tended four  courses  of  instruction  given  by  four  dif- 
ferent persons  under  the  auspices  of  four  distinct 
departments,  and  that  he  had  heard  substantially  the 
same  thing  in  all  four.  This  is  surely  a  type  of  aca- 
demic freedom  upon  which  some  limitation,  economic, 
temporal,  ethical,  or  intellectual,  might  well  be  placed. 

Columbia  University  has  at  its  doors  one  of  the 
greatest  and  most  inviting  laboratories  in  the  world. 
New  York  City  is  a  laboratory  of  almost  unexampled 


COLLEGE  AND  UNIVERSITY  TEACHING   139 

magnitude  and  many-sidedness.  Here  are  courts  of 
every  sort  and  kind  for  the  observation  and  study  of 
the  student  of  law;  here  are  hospitals  and  clinics  with- 
out number  for  the  observation  and  study  of  the  stu- 
dent of  medicine;  here  are  engineering  undertakings 
that  cannot  be  matched,  perhaps,  anywhere  in  the 
world  for  the  observation  and  study  of  the  student  of 
applied  science;  here  are  buildings  of  amazing  variety  of 
type  for  the  observation  and  study  of  the  student  of 
architecture;  here  are  colleges  and  schools  reaching 
directly  hundreds  of  thousands  of  human  beings  for 
the  observation  and  study  of  students  of  education; 
here  are  museums  of  art  and  of  natural  history  as  well 
as  a  zoological  park  and  botanical  garden  of  unusual 
excellence  for  the  observation  and  study  of  students  of 
these  subjects;  here  is  a  complex  and  highly  organized 
municipal  government,  a  congeries  of  nationalities,  a 
constant  stream  of  inflowing  immigration,  for  the  ob- 
servation and  study  of  him  who  would  know  the  social 
and  political  problems  of  to-day  at  first-hand.  An  in- 
creasing proportion  of  the  advanced  and  professional 
work  of  the  university  should  be  done  in  this  labora- 
tory. There  should  be  co-operation  at  every  possible 
point  between  the  university  teachers  and  the  directors 
of  this  laboratory  in  its  various  departments  and  sub- 
divisions, both  official  and  unofficial.  Here,  as  no- 
where else  in  America,  perhaps  as  nowhere  else  in  the 
world,  the  advanced  student  may  measure  the  working 
of  different  and  opposing  theories  and  may  see  the 
practical  results  of  old  and  new  tendencies  and  ideals. 


140     COLLEGE  AND  UNIVERSITY  TEACHING 

In  this  laboratory  productive  and  inquiring  scholar- 
ship can  speedily  test  the  results  and  proposals  of 
these  tendencies  and  ideals.  Every  year  should  see  a 
larger  number  of  graduate  and  professional  students 
leaving  the  university  filled  with  a  new  pride  in  the 
city  of  New  York  because  they  have  come  to  know  and 
to  understand  some  one  of  the  myriad  admirable 
things  that  happen  or  are  done  there. 


XII 
MODERN  FOREIGN  LANGUAGE  STUDY 


From  the  Annual  Report  as  president  of  Columbia  University, 
June  30,  1918 


MODERN  FOREIGN  LANGUAGE  STUDY 

Restlessness  under  conditions  that  have  prevailed  for 
many  years  as  to  school  and  college  instruction  in  mod- 
ern foreign  languages  is  not  of  recent  date.  The  teach- 
ers of  these  subjects  have  long  insisted  that  they  were 
not  allotted  sufficient  time  in  which  to  accomplish  the 
results  that  they  desired,  while  the  students  them- 
selves, their  parents,  and  the  teachers  of  other  subjects 
have  complained  loudly  that  no  matter  what  the  rea- 
son, the  fact  was  that  very  few  American  college  stu- 
dents had  anything  approaching  an  easy  familiarity 
with  spoken  or  written  French,  German,  Italian,  or 
Spanish.  The  new  international  interdependences  that 
are  a  result  of  the  war  have  put  new  emphasis  upon 
these  discontents,  and  it  is  high  time  that  some  way 
were  discovered  to  meet  and  to  allay  them. 

It  is  probable  that  the  root  of  the  difficulty  is  to  be 
found  in  the  conditions  under  which  the  teaching  of 
modern  foreign  languages  was  begun  in  American 
schools  and  colleges.  This  teaching  was  not  at  first  ac- 
cepted as  a  necessary  and  integral  part  of  the  school 
and  college  curriculum,  but  was  treated  as  an  extra, 
and  in  old  days  often  paid  for  as  such.  When  under- 
taken in  this  way  and  in  this  spirit  it  was  hardly  possi- 
ble for  the  teaching  of  modern  foreign  languages  to 
lead,  save  in  exceptional  cases,  to  any  very  large  result. 


i44       MODERN  FOREIGN  LANGUAGE  STUDY 

It  is  high  time  to  consider  whether  this  whole  branch 
of  instruction  should  not  be  radically  reorganized  and 
readjusted  to  meet  conditions  that  are  not  only  mod- 
ern but  very  real. 

The  American  college  is  still  far  from  realizing  the 
goal  of  modern  language  teaching  described  by  Henry 
Wadsworth  Longfellow  in  his  inaugural  address  when 
entering  upon  his  work  as  professor  of  modern  lan- 
guages in  Bowdoin  College,  September  2,  1830.  Nearly 
ninety  years  ago  Mr.  Longfellow  was  moved  to  say: 

A  knowledge  of  the  principal  languages  of  modern  Europe  forms 
in  our  day  an  essential  part  of  a  liberal  education.  ...  I  cannot 
regard  the  study  of  a  language  as  the  pastime  of  a  listless  hour.  To 
trace  the  progress  of  the  human  mind  through  the  progressive  de- 
velopment of  language;  to  learn  how  other  nations  thought,  and 
felt,  and  spake;  to  enrich  the  understanding  by  opening  upon  it 
new  sources  of  knowledge;  and  by  speaking  many  tongues  to  be- 
come a  citizen  of  the  world;  these  are  objects  worthy  of  the  exertion 
their  attainment  demands  at  our  hands. 

The  mere  acquisition  of  a  language  is  not  the  ultimate  object: 
It  is  a  means  to  be  employed  in  the  acquisition  of  something  which 
lies  beyond.  I  should  therefore  deem  my  duty  but  half  performed 
were  I  to  limit  my  exertions  to  the  narrow  bounds  of  grammatical 
rules:  Nay,  that  I  had  done  little  for  the  intellectual  culture  of  a 
pupil  when  I  had  merely  put  an  instrument  into  his  hands,  without 
explaining  to  him  its  most  important  uses. 

Mr.  Longfellow  goes  on  throughout  this  notable  ad- 
dress to  give  a  general  outline  of  what  he  conceived  to 
be  his  field  of  academic  duty,  and  drew  a  picture  as 
satisfying  as  it  was  inviting. 


MODERN  FOREIGN  LANGUAGE  STUDY       14$ 

Except  in  rare  cases  it  cannot  be  doubted  that  the 
study  of  modern  foreign  languages  has  been  carried  on 
quite  apart  from  any  study  of  the  life,  the  institutions, 
the  art,  and  the  civilization  of  the  peoples  whose  lan- 
guages they  are,  save  that  opportunity  is  given  to 
read,  more  or  less  haltingly,  a  few  of  the  great  literary 
masterpieces  which  a  particular  language  enshrines. 
The  very  name  of  our  academic  departments  indicates 
a  narrowness  of  view  and  purpose  which  we  should 
now  quickly  strive  to  outgrow.  Instead  of  a  Depart- 
ment of  Romance  Languages  and  Literatures,  for  ex- 
ample, there  should  be,  let  us  say,  a  Department  of  the 
Latin  Peoples,  in  which  might  be  assembled  not  only 
those  teachers  who  give  instruction  in  the  Romance 
languages  and  literatures,  but  also  those  who  give  in- 
struction in  the  history,  the  government,  the  art,  and 
the  architecture  of  those  peoples  that  are  of  direct 
Latin  descent.  In  similar  fashion  there  might  be  De- 
partments of  the  Teutonic  or  Germanic  Peoples,  of 
the  Slavic  Peoples,  and  of  the  Oriental  Peoples.  The 
Department  of  Classical  Philology  is  already  appro- 
priately named,  since  the  broad  interpretation  of  that 
term  is  inclusive  of  the  history,  the  institutions,  the 
art,  and  the  life  of  the  ancient  peoples  of  Greece  and 
Rome.  The  main  thing  is  to  cease  thinking  of  a  lan- 
guage as  something  apart  or  as  a  mere  tool  for  tech- 
nical use,  and  to  come  to  regard  it  as  a  pathway  lead* 
ing  to  new  and  inspiring  regions  of  understanding  and 
of  appreciation.  The  chief  purpose  in  studying  French 
should  be  to  gain  an  understanding  and  appreciation 


146       MODERN  FOREIGN  LANGUAGE  STUDY 

of  France,  and  that  cannot  follow  upon  a  mere  study 
of  the  language  as  a  form  and  instrument  of  literary 
expression  alone,  vitally  important  though  that  be. 


XIII 
TRUE  VOCATIONAL  PREPARATION 


From  the  Annual  Report  as  president  of  Columbia  University, 
June  30,  1913 


TRUE  VOCATIONAL  PREPARATION 

The  younger  generation  shows  many  signs  of  being 
too  impatient  to  prepare  for  life.  What  is  called  vo- 
cational training  is  being  steadily  pushed  down  through 
the  secondary  into  the  elementary  schools,  and  pre- 
sumably it  will  soon  reach  the  cradle.  The  old  notion 
that  a  child  should  be  so  trained  as  to  have  the  fullest 
and  most  complete  possession  of  its  faculties  and  its 
competences,  in  order  to  rise  in  efficiency,  to  gain 
larger  rewards,  and  to  render  more  complete  service, 
has  given  way  to  the  new  notion  that  it  is  quite  enough 
if  a  child  is  trained  in  some  aptitude  to  enable  it  to 
stay  where  it  first  finds  itself.  Of  course,  under  the 
guise  of  progress,  this  is  retrogression.  Carried  to  its 
logical  result,  it  would  mean  a  static  and  a  stratified 
social  order.  It  would  put  an  end  to  individual  initi- 
ative and  to  individual  opportunity.  It  is  not  diffi- 
cult to  foretell  what  results  would  follow  both  to 
civilization  and  to  social  order  and  comfort.  The  basis 
for  any  true  vocational  preparation  is  training  to  know 
a  few  things  well  and  thoroughly,  and  in  gaining  such 
knowledge  to  form  those  habits  of  mind  and  of  will 
that  fit  the  individual  to  meet  new  duties  and  unfore- 
seen emergencies.  This  is  the  real  reason  why  the 
traditional  training  given  at  the  University  of  Oxford 
has  produced  such  stupendous  results  for  generations. 

149 


150          TRUE  VOCATIONAL  PREPARATION 

Of  course  the  Oxford  training  has  had,  to  some  ex- 
tent at  least,  selected  material  to  work  upon;  but  it  has 
done  its  work  amazingly  well.  Whether  in  states- 
manship or  at  the  bar  or  in  the  army  or  in  diplomacy 
or  in  large  administrative  undertakings  in  business, 
the  man  trained  at  Oxford  has  won  first  place  by  rea- 
son of  the  character  and  quality  of  his  performance. 
No  such  result  has  been  obtained,  and  no  such  result 
need  be  expected,  from  a  school  and  college  training 
which  is  a  quick  smattering  of  many  things.  At  the 
bottom  of  the  educational  process  lies  discipline,  and 
the  purpose  of  discipline  is  to  develop  the  power  of 
self-discipline.  When  discipline  is  withdrawn,  dawdling 
quickly  enters,  and  the  habit  of  dawdling  is  as  corrupt- 
ing to  the  intellect  as  it  is  to  the  morals.  The  patience 
to  be  thorough,  the  concentration  to  understand,  and 
the  persistence  to  grasp  and  to  apply  are  the  three 
traits  that  most  clearly  mark  off  the  truly  educated 
and  disciplined  man  from  his  uneducated  and  undis- 
ciplined fellow,  and  they  are  precisely  the  three  traits 
which  are  most  overlooked  and  neglected  in  the  mod- 
ern school  and  college  curriculum.  A  school  is  sup- 
posed to  be  modern  and  progressive  if  it  offers  some- 
thing new,  regardless  of  the  fact  that  this  something 
new  may  be  not  only  useless,  but  harmful,  as  an  educa- 
tional instrument. 

With  the  growth  of  democracy  the  need  for  self- 
discipline  becomes  not  less,  but  far  greater.  When 
great  bodies  of  men  were  controlled  by  power  from 
without,  then  they  were  in  so  far  disciplined;  now 


TRUE  VOCATIONAL  PREPARATION          151 

that  in  all  parts  of  the  world  men  are  shaping  their 
own  collective  action  without  let  or  hindrance,  the 
need  for  self-discipline  is  many  times  greater  than  it 
ever  was  before.  In  an  older  civilization  self-disci- 
pline was  necessary  for  the  protection  of  individual 
character;  to-day  it  is  necessary  for  the  protection  of 
society  and  all  its  huge  interests. 

Too  much  slovenly  reading,  particularly  of  news- 
papers and  of  magazines,  but  also  of  worthless  books, 
stands  in  the  way  of  education  and  enlightenment. 
In  no  field  of  human  interest  is  the  substitution  of 
quantity  for  quality  more  fraught  with  damage  and 
disorder  than  in  that  of  reading.  The  builders  of  the 
Constitution  of  the  United  States  and  the  great  law- 
yers of  the  colonial  and  early  national  period  knew 
but  few  books,  but  the  books  that  they  knew  were 
first-rate  books  and  they  knew  them  well.  Nothing 
contributed  so  much  to  the  fulness  of  their  minds, 
to  the  keenness  of  their  intellects,  or  to  the  lasting 
character  of  the  institutions  that  they  built  as  their 
reflective  grasp  on  a  few  great  books  and  on  the  prin- 
ciples and  literary  standards  which  those  books  taught 
and  exemplified.  Such  a  task  as  that  which  Gibbon 
set  himself  over  a  century  ago  would  be  impossible  to- 
day, even  for  a  syndicate  of  Gibbons.  There  are  too 
many  books  now  to  enable  another  History  of  the  De- 
cline and  Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire  to  be  composed. 
Productivity  of  the  highest  type  is  checked  by  the 
excess  of  facilities.  This  is  true  both  of  books  and  of 
physical  apparatus.  We  could  get  along  well  with  far 


152          TRUE   VOCATIONAL  PREPARATION 

fewer  books  and  far  less  apparatus,  and  we  should  be 
likely  to  get  more  ideas  and  a  higher  type  of  human 
being.  The  universities  of  the  world  search  restlessly 
for  truth,  but  too  often  they  overlook  the  indubitable 
which  lies  at  their  feet. 


XIV 
CRITICISM  OF  UNIVERSITY  PROFESSORS 


From  the  Annual  Report  as  president  of  Columbia  University, 
June  30,  1915 


CRITICISM  OF  UNIVERSITY  PROFESSORS 

A  not  inconsiderable  part  of  the  occupations  of  the 
president  is  to  reply  to  letters  addressed  to  him  in  criti- 
cism of  some  reported  utterance  by  a  member  of  the 
teaching  staff,  and  in  making  such  reply  to  point  out 
what  is  the  precise  status  and  responsibility  of  an  aca- 
demic teacher,  and  what  is  the  university's  share  of 
responsibility  for  his  utterances.  The  number  of  such 
criticisms  made  on  the  part  of  the  public  has  notably  in- 
creased in  recent  years,  and  during  the  past  year,  prob- 
ably on  account  of  the  European  War,  these  criticisms 
have  been  even  more  numerous  than  heretofore.  In 
most  cases  they  are  based  on  incorrect  or  garbled  re- 
ports of  what  the  person  in  question  really  said.  In 
other  cases  they  reflect  merely  narrowness  of  view  and 
stupidity,  or  a  desire  to  use  the  university  as  an  agent 
for  some  particular  propaganda  which  the  critics  hold 
dear.  One  thing  these  criticisms  have  in  common: 
they  almost  invariably  conclude  by  demanding  the  in- 
stant removal  of  the  offending  professor  from  the  rolls 
of  the  university. 

During  the  past  year  one  amiable  correspondent  has 
attacked  a  university  officer  under  the  caption  of  a 
"Snake  at  large."  The  fact  that  the  gentleman  in  ques- 
tion was  not  a  snake  but  a  professor  and  that  he  was 
not  at  large  but  in  retirement,  had  no  weight  in  the 


156    CRITICISM  OF  UNIVERSITY  PROFESSORS 

eyes  of  the  writer  of  the  letter.  It  appears  that  in  this 
case  the  offense  was  the  expression  in  public  of  a  favor- 
able opinion  as  to  the  nutritive  qualities  of  beer.  The 
effect  of  this  reported  utterance  on  the  mind  of  the 
objector  was  to  deprive  him  of  any  modicum  of  reason 
that  he  may  have  hitherto  possessed.  He  was  and 
still  is  very  much  offended  that  the  officer  in  question 
was  not  subjected  to  some  public  humiliation  and  re- 
buke. 

In  another  case  a  clergyman  wrote  to  object  to  the 
reported  utterances  in  the  classroom — incorrectly  re- 
ported, it  turned  out — of  a  professor  who  was  described 
as  endeavoring  to  destroy  whatever  of  faith  in  Chris- 
tianity there  was  in  the  members  of  one  of  his  classes. 
This  particular  complaint  did  not  ask  for  the  dismissal 
of  the  professor  in  question,  but  his  letter  left  no  doubt 
that  such  action  would  be  entirely  acceptable  to  him. 

A  third  and  more  exigent  correspondent  wished  a 
professor  dismissed — and  dismissed  by  cable,  inasmuch 
as  he  happened  to  be  in  Europe  at  the  time  of  his  of- 
fense— for  having  written  a  letter  to  the  public  press 
in  which  he  expressed  a  personal  view  as  to  the  merits 
of  the  European  War  that  was  not  in  accordance  with 
prevailing  American  opinion.  This  correspondent 
based  his  demand  for  the  professor's  discharge  upon 
the  fact  that  he  was  traitorous  and  densely  ignorant. 
Of  course  these  two  defects  would  doubtless  have 
weight  with  the  offender's  colleagues  and  with  the 
trustees  if  the  matter  ever  came  before  them  in  formal 
fashion. 


CRITICISM  OF  UNIVERSITY  PROFESSORS     157 

Still  another  complainant  was  an  official  representa- 
tive of  a  belligerent  power,  who  wrote  to  denounce  a 
university  professor  as  a  slanderer  because  of  some  dif- 
ference of  opinion  as  to  the  qualifications  and  char- 
acter of  an  individual  whose  name  was  given.  In  this 
case  the  complainant  did  not  ask  for  the  dismissal  of 
the  offending  professor  but  only  that  he  should  "be 
kindly  called  to  account." 

All  this  would  be  amusing  were  it  not  sad.  It  illus- 
trates once  more  how  much  the  public  at  large  has  still 
to  learn  as  to  the  significance  and  purpose  of  univer- 
sities. The  notion  which  is  sedulously  cultivated  in 
some  quarters  that  there  are  powerful  interests,  finan- 
cial, economic,  and  social,  which  wish  to  curb  the 
proper  freedom  of  speech  of  university  professors  in 
America,  probably  has  little  or  no  justification  any- 
where. So  far  as  Columbia  University  is  concerned  it 
has  no  justification  whatever.  That  there  are  large 
elements  in  the  population  which  do  desire  to  curb  the 
proper  freedom  of  speech  of  university  professors  is, 
however,  indisputable.  Evidence  for  this  is  to  be 
found  not  only  in  such  correspondence  as  has  just  been 
referred  to  but  in  letters  addressed  to  the  public  press, 
and  even  in  editorial  utterances  on  the  part  of  sup- 
posedly reputable  newspapers.  The  fact  is  that  peo- 
ple generally  have  a  great  deal  to  learn  as  to  the 
meaning  and  functions  of  a  university.  The  last  thing 
that  many  persons  want  is  freedom  either  of  speech  or 
of  anything  else  unless  its  exercise  happens  to  accord 
with  their  own  somewhat  violent  and  passionate  pre- 


158     CRITICISM  OF  UNIVERSITY  PROFESSORS 

dilections.  It  must  be  said,  on  the  other  hand,  that 
professors  of  established  reputation,  sound  judgment, 
and  good  sense  rarely  if  ever  find  themselves  under 
serious  criticism  from  any  source.  Such  men  and 
women  may  hold  what  opinions  they  please,  since 
they  are  in  the  habit  of  expressing  them  with  discre- 
tion, moderation,  good  taste,  and  good  sense.  It  is 
the  violation  of  one  or  another  of  these  canons  which 
produces  the  occasional  disturbance  that  is  so  widely 
advertised  as  an  assertion  of  or  attack  upon  academic 
freedom.  Genuine  cases  of  the  invasion  of  academic 
freedom  are  so  rare  as  to  be  almost  non-existent.  It 
may  be  doubted  whether  more  than  two  such  cases 
have  occurred  in  the  United  States  in  the  past  forty 
years.  It  is  a  misnomer  to  apply  the  high  and  splen- 
did term  "academic  freedom"  to  exhibitions  of  bad 
taste  and  bad  manners.  A  university  owes  it  to  itself 
to  defend  members  of  its  teaching  staff  from  unjust 
and  improper  attacks  made  upon  them,  when  in  sin- 
cerely seeking  truth  they  arrive  at  results  which  are 
either  novel  in  themselves  or  in  opposition  to  some 
prevailing  opinion.  Here  again  the  question  is  much 
more  largely  one  of  manner  than  of  matter.  The  seri- 
ous, scholarly,  and  responsible  investigator  is  not  a 
demagogue,  and  demagogues  should  not  be  permitted 
to  take  his  name  in  vain. 

A  well-organized  group  of  American  youth  such  as  is 
to  be  found  at  any  college  or  university  of  consider- 
able size  offers  almost  irresistible  temptation  to  the 


CRITICISM  OF  UNIVERSITY  PROFESSORS     159 

propagandist.  It  seems  to  the  ardent  supporter  of 
some  new  movement  the  most  natural  thing  in  the 
world  that  he  should  be  permitted,  in  season  and  out 
of  season,  to  harangue  college  and  university  students 
on  the  subject  around  which  he  feels  that  the  whole 
world  revolves.  Any  attempt  to  protect  the  students 
or  the  reputation  of  a  given  college  or  university  for 
sobriety  and  sanity  of  judgment  is  forthwith  attacked 
as  a  movement  toward  the  suppression  of  free  speech. 
A  portion  of  the  newspaper  press  and  not  a  few  of  their 
more  constant  correspondents  are  aroused  to  action, 
and  pretty  soon  there  is  a  full-fledged  agitation  in 
progress,  directed  against  those  responsible  for  the  ad- 
ministration and  good  order  of  the  college  or  univer- 
sity in  question.  In  particular,  the  agitation  in  favor 
of  woman  suffrage,  and  those  in  favor  of  what  is  called 
prohibition  or  of  what  is  called  socialism,  are  most 
active  and  determined  in  seeking  to  use  colleges  and 
universities  as  agencies  and  instruments  of  propa- 
ganda. 

It  may  properly  be  pointed  out  that  in  each  of  these 
cases,  and  in  others  that  are  similar,  there  is  not  and 
cannot  be  involved  any  question  of  free  speech  in  the 
proper  sense  of  that  term.  There  is  no  good  reason 
why  the  youth  who  are  committed  to  the  care  of  a  col- 
lege or  university  should  be  turned  over  by  that  col- 
lege or  university  to  any  agitators  or  propagandists 
who  may  present  themselves.  On  the  other  hand, 
there  is  every  reason  why  the  college  or  university 
should  protect  its  students  from  outside  influences  of 


160  CRITICISM  OF  UNIVERSITY  PROFESSORS 

this  sort.  The  sound  and  proper  policy  appears  to  be 
for  a  college  or  university  to  see  to  it  that  its  students 
receive  information  and  instruction  on  all  of  these 
subjects,  and  on  similar  matters  that  interest  large 
groups  of  people,  from  its  own  responsible  officers  of 
instruction  or  from  scholarly  experts  selected  by  them 
because  of  their  competence  and  good  sense.  For 
many  years  it  has  been  the  rule  at  Columbia  Univer- 
sity, established  in  1891,  that  any  bona-fide  organiza- 
tion of  students  interested  in  a  political  or  social  move- 
ment and  wishing  to  organize  a  club  or  association  in 
support  thereof  might  hold  one  meeting  for  organiza- 
tion in  the  university  buildings,  but  that,  so  far  as 
clubs  and  associations  interested  in  political  or  highly 
contentious  subjects  were  concerned,  all  subsequent 
meetings  must  be  held  outside  of  the  university  pre- 
cincts. This  plan  has  worked  well  for  nearly  twenty- 
five  years.  The  university  has  been  most  hospitable  to 
clubs  and  organizations  of  every  sort,  provided  they 
were  organized  in  good  faith  by  duly  registered  stu- 
dents. Under  the  operation  of  this  rule,  no  serious 
abuses  have  arisen  and  no  charge  has  been  made,  or 
could  justly  be  made,  that  freedom  of  speech  was  in 
any  way  interfered  with  or  limited.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  university  and  its  students  have  been  pro- 
tected from  constant  and  persistent  agitation,  during 
political  campaigns  in  particular,  in  regard  to  matters 
that  lie  quite  outside  the  main  business  and  purpose  of 
the  university. 


XV 
GOVERNMENT  AND   ADMINISTRATION 


From  the  Annual  Report  as  president  of  Columbia  University, 
June  30,  1917 


GOVERNMENT  AND  ADMINISTRATION 

Some  years  ago  the  London  Spectator  invited  Lord 
Salisbury,  then  prime  minister,  to  read  to  his  col- 
leagues in  the  cabinet  the  eighteenth  chapter  of  Exo- 
dus, beginning  at  the  thirteenth  verse.  The  writer 
pointed  out  that  in  that  chapter  the  true  principle  of 
civil  administration  is  laid  down  with  a  clearness  and 
precision  which  no  subsequent  writers  on  public  af- 
fairs have  ever  bettered.  The  passage  in  question  re- 
lates the  visit  of  Jethro  to  his  son-in-law,  Moses,  in 
the  course  of  which  Jethro  observed  that  the  whole  of 
Moses'  energy  was  occupied  with  the  details  of  ad- 
ministration. He  therefore  felt  compelled  to  protest 
and  to  ask  Moses  why  he  was  so  continually  immersed 
in  the  details  of  his  work.  The  answer  of  Moses  was 
not  satisfying,  and  Jethro  at  once  pointed  out  where 
the  weak  spot  lay.  He  said  to  Moses:  "The  thing  that 
thou  doest  is  not  good.  Thou  wilt  surely  wear  away, 
both  thou,  and  this  people  that  is  with  thee:  for  the 
thing  is  too  heavy  for  thee;  thou  art  not  able  to  per- 
form it  thyself  alone."  This  wise  man  went  on  to  urge 
that  Moses  should  content  himself  with  laying  down 
general  principles  of  action,  and  that  details  should  be 
left  to  subordinates.  His  exact  words  have  not  lost 
their  consequence:  "Thou  [Moses]  shalt  teach  them 

163 


1 64       GOVERNMENT  AND  ADMINISTRATION 

the  statutes  and  the  laws,  and  shalt  show  them  the 
way  wherein  they  must  walk,  and  the  work  that  they 
must  do.  ...  And  it  shall  be  that  every  great  mat- 
ter they  shall  bring  unto  thee,  but  every  small  matter 
they  shall  judge  themselves;  so  shall  it  be  easier  for 
thyself,  and  they  shall  bear  the  burden  with  thee." 

More  tractable  than  most  sons-in-law,  Moses  ac- 
cepted the  good  advice  of  Jethro,  and  the  record  tells 
that  in  future  Moses  refrained  from  interference  with 
matters  of  detail  and  occupied  himself  solely  with 
those  of  importance. 

The  distinction  between  government  and  adminis- 
tration and  the  principles  of  good  administration  could 
not  be  better  stated  than  by  Jethro.  Government  is 
the  establishment  of  principles,  laws,  policies,  and  ad- 
ministration is  the  carrying  out  and  executing  of  those 
principles,  laws,  policies.  In  Columbia  University  this 
distinction  has  been  accepted  and  acted  upon  with  in- 
creasing completeness  for  thirty  years.  The  records 
of  the  university  make  plain  that  before  1887  or  there- 
about, the  trustees  concerned  themselves  not  only 
with  the  government  of  the  university  but  directly 
with  its  administration.  Since  July  I,  1887,  however, 
and  more  completely  since  1892,  the  statutes  of  the 
university  have  put  all  initiative  and  virtually  com- 
plete responsibility  for  the  educational  policies  and 
work  of  the  university  in  the  hands  of  the  university 
council  and  the  several  faculties.  These  bodies  are,  by 
their  nature,  legislative,  and  the  execution  of  the  policies 
authorized  by  them  is  confided  to  the  president,  to 


GOVERNMENT  AND  ADMINISTRATION       165 

deans,  to  directors,  to  secretaries,  and  to  other  appro- 
priate officers  of  administration.  Democracy  in  gov- 
ernment is  understandable  and  the  professed  aim  and 
faith  of  most  modern  men.  Democracy  in  administra- 
tion, however,  is  a  meaningless  phrase.  There  can  be 
no  democracy  in  collecting  the  fares  on  a  street-car, 
or  in  painting  a  house,  or  in  writing  a  letter.  Vague 
and  inconsequent  writers  are,  nevertheless,  in  the 
habit  of  using  the  nonsensical  phrase  "democracy  in 
administration,"  apparently  without  appreciation  of 
the  fact  that  the  words  are  literally  nonsense.  To  dis- 
tinguish between  government  and  administration  and 
then  to  establish  sound  principles  of  administration 
are  no  less  important  now  than  in  the  days  of  Jethro 
and  Moses. 

The  organization  of  Columbia  University  is  pre- 
scribed by  the  charter,  but  a  reading  of  the  charter 
provisions  would  give  no  idea  of  the  practical  working 
of  that  organization  in  the  present  year  of  grace.  The 
charter  gives  the  trustees  full  legal  power  and  author- 
ity to  direct  and  prescribe  the  course  of  study  and  the 
discipline  to  be  observed.  The  trustees  have,  however, 
by  statutes  of  their  own  adoption,  long  since  put  the 
first  of  these  powers  in  the  hands  of  the  university 
council  and  of  the  faculties,  and  the  second  in  the 
hands  of  the  president,  the  deans,  and  the  directors. 
There  is  record  of  but  a  single  instance  since  1892 
where  any  exercise  of  the  powers  so  committed  to  the 
council  or  the  faculties  has  been  amended  or  rejected 
by  the  trustees,  to  whom  all  such  action,  if  important, 


166       GOVERNMENT  AND  ADMINISTRATION 

must  go  for  formal  approval;  and  no  case  of  discipline 
has  been  appealed  to  the  trustees  since  many  years 
before  that  date. 

The  present  functions  of  the  trustees,  as  distinct 
from  their  legal  powers  and  authority,  are  to  care  for 
the  property  and  funds  of  the  corporation,  to  erect  and 
to  maintain  the  buildings  necessary  for  the  work  of 
the  university,  and  to  appropriate  annually  the  sums 
which  in  their  judgment  are  necessary  and  expedient 
for  the  carrying  on  of  the  university's  work.  In  ad- 
dition, the  trustees  select  and  appoint  a  president  and, 
following  the  quaint  language  of  the  charter,  "such 
professor  or  professors,  tutor  or  tutors  to  assist  the 
president  in  the  government  and  education  of  the 
students  belonging  to  the  said  college,  and  such  other 
officer  or  officers,  as  to  the  said  trustees  shall  seem  meet, 
all  of  whom  shall  hold  their  offices  during  the  pleasure 
of  the  trustees." 

In  practice  it  is  only  the  first  of  these  functions,  that 
of  caring  for  the  property  and  funds  of  the  corporation, 
which  the  trustees  perform  without  consultation  with 
other  members  of  the  university.  In  the  planning  and 
erection  of  new  buildings  those  individuals  or  groups  of 
individuals  who  are  to  occupy  and  use  any  given  build- 
ing are  always  consulted  as  to  its  plan  and  arrange- 
ment. For  at  least  twenty-five  years  no  appointment 
to  the  teaching  staff  has  been  made,  with  two  excep- 
tions, save  upon  the  recommendation  and  advice  of 
those  members  or  representatives  of  the  teaching  staff 
most  immediately  interested.  The  two  exceptions  were 


GOVERNMENT  AND  ADMINISTRATION       167 

cases  in  which  donors  of  new  endowments  asked  for 
specified  appointments  to  the  positions  which  the  en- 
dowments made  possible,  submitting  in  each  case  am- 
ple testimony  to  the  competence  of  the  persons  named. 
To  all  teaching  positions  below  the  grade  of  assistant 
professor,  hundreds  in  number  each  year,  the  power  of 
appointment  is  vested  in  the  several  faculties.  These 
appointments  are  confirmed  as  a  matter  of  form  by 
the  trustees,  but  there  is  no  record  of  any  such  ap- 
pointment having  failed  of  confirmation.  It  seems 
plain,  therefore,  that  for  a  quarter  of  a  century  the 
practice  at  Columbia  University  has  been  in  accord 
with  those  ideals  of  university  government  that  put 
the  largest  possible  measure  of  responsibility  and 
power  in  the  hands  of  the  university  teachers,  and  that 
it  is  probably  far  in  advance  of  the  policy  pursued  at 
most  other  universities  of  rank  either  in  Europe  or  in 
the  United  States. 

As  the  work  of  university  administration  becomes 
precise  and  better  organized,  it  is  better  done.  Funds 
are  by  no  means  adequate  to  permit  the  institution  of 
a  thoroughly  competent  and  perfectly  organized  ad- 
ministrative staff  in  Columbia  University,  but  so  far 
as  means  will  permit  the  sound  principles  of  adminis- 
tration that  have  been  described  are  uniformly  fol- 
lowed. After  a  policy  has  once  been  formulated  and 
adopted  by  the  appropriate  legislative  university  au- 
thority, it  is  intrusted  for  execution  to  an  individual. 
That  individual  is  chosen  for  his  known  competence  in 
the  transaction  of  business  and  in  dealing  with  men. 


i68      GOVERNMENT  AND  ADMINISTRATION 

Upon  him  rests  the  responsibility,  easily  fixed  when 
need  be,  for  the  prompt  and  effective  carrying  out  of 
the  measures  put  in  his  hands. 

By  the  provisions  of  the  charter,  all  officers  of  ad- 
ministration and  instruction  are  appointed  to  hold 
their  offices  during  the  pleasure  of  the  trustees.  Use- 
ful reflection  is  invited  by  the  question  why  it  should 
usually  be  considered  so  normal  and  so  natural  for  a 
teacher  to  exercise  his  pleasure  to  exchange  one  aca- 
demic post  for  another,  while  so  abnormal  and  so  un- 
natural for  the  governors  of  an  institution  of  learning 
to  exercise  their  pleasure  to  substitute  a  more  satis- 
factory individual  teacher  for  a  poorer  or  less  satis- 
factory one.  It  would  seem  that  the  phrase  "during 
the  pleasure  of  the  trustees  "  opened  the  way  to  a  ter- 
mination of  academic  relationship  without  any  neces- 
sary reflection  whatever  upon  the  character  of  the  in- 
dividual teacher.  Indeed,  this  is  precisely  the  judicial 
construction  that  has  been  given  to  these  words.  In 
the  case  of  People  ex  rel  Kelsey  v.  New  York  Medical 
School,  decided  in  1898,  the  Appellate  Division  of  the 
Supreme  Court,  in  a  unanimous  opinion  written  by 
Mr.  Justice  Barrett,  used  this  language  in  distinguish- 
ing between  removal  after  charges  and  removal  at  the 
pleasure  of  the  trustees  (Appellate  Division  Reports, 
New  York,  29:247-8): 

The  decision  of  a  Board  upon  charges,  after  a  hearing,  cannot 
in  any  proper  sense  be  deemed  a  manifestation  of  its  pleasure. 
The  power  in  the  one  case  is  absolute,  in  the  other  judicial. 


GOVERNMENT  AND  ADMINISTRATION       169 

It  seems  quite  reasonable,  too,  that  these  alternative  powers 
should  thus  have  been  conferred.  It  seems  equally  reasonable  that 
a  majority  vote  should  have  been  deemed  sufficient  for  removal 
at  pleasure,  while  a  three-fourths  vote  should  have  been  required 
for  a  removal  upon  charges.  When  a  professor  is  removed  at  plea- 
sure, no  stigma  attaches  to  the  act  of  removal.  His  services  are  no 
longer  required  and  he  is  told  so.  That  is  what  in  substance  such 
a  removal  amounts  to.  When  he  is  removed  upon  charges,  how- 
ever, he  is  sent  out  into  the  professional  world  with  a  stain  upon 
his  record.  The  distinction  here  is  obvious  and  the  intention  to 
discriminate,  just.  If  a  professor  misconducts  himself,  he  may  be 
disciplined.  The  College  in  that  case  deems  it  improper  to  give 
him  an  honorable  discharge  or  to  permit  him  to  depart  with  the 
impunity  attached  to  a  mere  causeless  dismissal.  If,  however,  its 
relations  with  him  are  severed  merely  because  he  is  not  liked  or 
because  some  one  else  is  preferred,  dismissal  at  pleasure  is  provided 
for.  In  the  latter  case,  it  is  reasonable  that  the  majority  in  the 
usual  way,  should  govern  an  act.  If  the  former,  it  is  just  that  the 
stigma  should  not  be  fastened  upon  the  professor  without  a  hear- 
ing and  a  substantial  preponderance  in  the  vote.  .  .  . 

Upon  the  other  hand,  the  College  should  not  be  tied  to  a  par- 
ticular person  who,  however  able  and  worthy,  happens  to  be 
afflicted  with  temperamental  qualities  which  render  association 
with  him  disagreeable.  There  can  be  no  good  reason  why  such  a 
person  should  be  permanently  inflicted  upon  his  associates,  so  long 
as  he  does  nothing  which  renders  him  amenable  to  charges.  .  .  . 
The  appointment  of  a  professor  is  not  an  appointment  to  office  in 
the  corporation  any  more  than  is  the  appointment  of  an  instructor. 
It  is  an  appointment  which  implies  contractual  relations  in  some 
form  of  which  the  by-law  is  the  foundation.  The  professor  may 
leave  at  his  pleasure;  the  Board  may  terminate  his  professorship 
at  its  pleasure.  If  the  relator's  view  be  correct,  the  "pleasure"  is 
his  and  his  alone.  It  would  follow  that  he  has  an  appointment 
which  constitutes  a  unilateral  contract  of  retention  at  his  own 
pleasure  for  life  or  during  good  behavior}  in  other  words,  a  contract 


iyo 

which  he  alone  can  specifically  enforce  and  which  is  entirely  de- 
pendent upon  his  individual  will.  We  think  this  theory  is  entirely 
unfounded. 

The  sound  common  sense  of  this  judgment  cannot  be 
gainsaid.  It  would  be  little  short  of  a  calamity  were  it 
not  possible  for  an  academic  teacher  to  change  his 
place  of  occupation  without  thereby  reflecting  upon 
the  intelligence  or  the  integrity  of  those  with  whom  he 
had  been  associated,  and  similarly  if  it  became  im- 
possible for  the  governing  board  of  a  school  system  or 
of  a  school  or  college  to  substitute  one  teacher  for  an- 
other without  bringing  charges  against  the  person  dis- 
placed. Any  contrary  theory  assumes  a  pre-estab- 
lished harmony  of  which  not  even  Leibnitz  dreamed 
and  a  pre-established  competence  which  would  render 
it  impossible  for  any  one  to  be  appointed  to  a  teaching 
position  who  was  not  ipso  facto  entitled  to  steady  pro- 
motion and  increase  in  compensation  and  to  a  lifelong 
tenure.  If  advancement  and  success  in  the  teaching 
profession  are  to  depend  upon  merit  and  not  merely 
upon  status,  there  must  be  clear  thinking  and  definite 
action  in  respect  to  these  matters.  Security  of  tenure 
is  desirable,  but  competence  and  loyalty  are  more  de- 
sirable still,  and  a  secure  tenure  purchased  at  the 
price  of  incompetence  and  disloyalty  must  sound  a 
death-knell  to  every  educational  system  or  institution 
where  it  prevails.  These  are  all  matters  of  grave  im- 
portance in  the  government  of  an  educational  system 
or  an  educational  institution.  They  cannot  be  dis- 
missed with  phrases  or  formulas,  but  must  be  met  and 


GOVERNMENT  AND  ADMINISTRATION       171 

decided  in  accordance  with  sound  principle  and  the 
public  interest. 

Just  as  seven  cities  contended  for  the  birthplace  ot 
Homer,  so  not  fewer  than  seven  American  academic 
wits  are  contending  for  the  honor  of  having  originated 
the  pungent  saying:  "Academic  freedom  means  free- 
dom to  say  what  you  think  without  thinking  what 
you  say."  There  is  no  real  reason  to  fear  that  aca- 
demic freedom,  whether  so  defined  or  otherwise,  is  or 
ever  has  been  in  the  slightest  danger  in  the  United 
States.  Evidence  to  the  contrary  is  quite  too  mani- 
fold and  too  abundant.  What  is  constantly  in  danger, 
however,  is  a  just  sense  of  academic  obligation.  When 
a  teacher  accepts  an  invitation  to  become  a  member  of 
an  academic  society,  he  thereupon  loses  some  of  the 
freedom  that  he  formerly  possessed.  He  remains,  as 
before,  subject  to  the  restrictions  and  the  punishments 
of  the  law;  but  in  addition  he  has  voluntarily  accepted 
the  restrictions  put  upon  him  by  the  traditions,  the 
organization,  and  the  purposes  of  the  institution  with 
which  he  has  become  associated.  Try  as  he  may,  he 
can  no  longer  write  or  speak  in  his  own  name  alone. 
Were  he  to  succeed  in  so  doing,  what  he  might  write 
or  say  would  have,  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  no  sig- 
nificance and  no  hearing.  What  he  writes  or  says  gains 
significance  and  a  hearing  because  of  the  prestige  of 
the  academic  society  to  which  he  belongs.  To  that 
prestige,  with  all  that  that  word  means,  the  academic 
teacher  owes  a  distinct,  a  constant,  and  a  compelling 


172       GOVERNMENT  AND  ADMINISTRATION 

obligation.  To  maintain  one's  connection  with  an  aca- 
demic society  while  at  war  with  its  purposes  or  disloyal 
to  its  traditions  and  organization  is  neither  wise  nor 
just.  No  one  is  compelled  to  remain  in  an  academic 
association  which  he  dislikes  or  which  makes  him  un- 
comfortable. What  the  ancient  Stoic  said  of  life  itself 
is  true  of  a  university:  "The  door  is  always  open  to 
any  one  who  has  an  excuse  for  leaving." 

On  the  other  hand,  academic  obligation  is  reciprocal. 
The  academic  society  of  which  the  individual  teacher  is 
a  member  owes  to  him  encouragement,  compensation 
as  generous  as  its  resources  will  afford,  and  protection 
from  unfair  attack  and  criticism,  as  well  as  from  all 
avoidable  hamperings  and  embarrassments  in  the  prose- 
cution of  his  intellectual  work.  Each  individual  mem- 
ber of  an  academic  society  is  in  some  degree  a  keeper  of 
that  society's  conscience  and  reputation.  As  such  the 
society  as  a  whole  must  give  him  support,  assistance, 
and  opportunity. 

The  same  type  of  mind  which  insists  that  it  knows  no 
country  but  humanity,  and  that  one  should  aim  to  be  a 
citizen  of  no  state  but  only  of  the  world,  indulges  it- 
self in  the  fiction  that  one  may  be  disloyal  to  the  aca- 
demic society  which  he  has  voluntarily  joined,  in  order 
to  show  devotion  to  something  that  he  conceives  to 
be  higher  and  of  greater  value.  Both  contentions  af- 
front common  sense  and  are  the  result  of  that  muddled 
thinking  which  to-day  is  bold  enough  to  misuse  the 
noble  name  of  philosophy.  One  effect  of  much  recent 
teaching  of  what  once  was  ethics  is  to  weaken  all  sense 


GOVERNMENT  AND  ADMINISTRATION       173 

of  obligation  of  every  kind  except  to  one's  own  ap- 
petites and  desire  for  instant  advantage.  That  eco- 
nomic determinism  which  is  confuted  every  time  a 
human  heart  beats  in  sympathy  and  which  all  history 
throws  to  the  winds  has  in  recent  years  obtained 
much  influence  among  those  who,  for  lack  of  a  more 
accurate  term,  call  themselves  intellectuals.  These  are 
for  the  most  part  men  who  know  so  many  things  which 
are  not  so  that  they  make  ignorance  appear  to  be 
not  only  interesting  but  positively  important.  They 
abound  just  now  in  the  lower  and  more  popular  forms 
of  literary  production,  and  they  are  not  without  rep- 
resentation in  academic  societies. 

The  time  has  not  yet  come,  however,  when  rational 
persons  can  contemplate  with  satisfaction  the  rule  of 
the  literary  and  academic  Bolsheviki  or  permit  them 
to  seize  responsibility  for  the  intellectual  life  of  the 
nation. 

Neglect  of  one's  academic  obligation,  or  carelessness 
regarding  it,  gives  rise  to  difficult  problems.  Men  of 
mature  years  who  have  achieved  reputation  enough  to 
be  invited  to  occupy  a  post  of  responsibility  in  a  uni- 
versity ought  not  to  have  to  be  reminded  that  there  is 
such  a  thing  as  academic  obligation  and  that  they  fall 
short  in  it.  It  is  humiliating  and  painful  to  find,  with 
increasing  frequency  and  in  different  parts  of  the  coun- 
try, men  in  distinguished  academic  posts  who  choose 
to  act  in  utter  disregard  of  the  plainest  dictates  of 
ethics  and  good  conduct.  It  is  fortunate  indeed  that, 
however  conspicuous  are  instances  of  this  disregard, 


174       GOVERNMENT  AND  ADMINISTRATION 

they  are  in  reality  negligible  in  number  when  compared 
with  the  vast  body  of  loyal,  devoted,  and  scholarly 
American  academic  teachers.  It  is  noticeable,  too, 
that  instances  of  this  lack  of  a  sense  of  obligation 
rarely  arise,  if  ever,  in  the  case  of  those  men  whose  in- 
tellectual occupations  bring  them  in  contact  with  real 
things.  It  is  only  when  a  man  is  concerned  chiefly 
with  opinions  and  views,  and  those  opinions  and  views 
of  his  own  making,  that  he  finds  and  yields  to  the 
temptation  to  make  his  academic  association  the  foot- 
ball of  his  own  ambitions  or  emotions. 

It  is  important,  too,  that  academic  teachers  shall 
not  be  so  absorbed  in  their  own  individual  work  as  not 
to  give  thought  and  care  to  the  larger  problems  and 
interests  of  the  academic  society  to  which  they  belong. 
No  part  of  a  university  system  is  without  experience 
that  is  of  value  in  helping  to  meet  satisfactorily  the 
questions  that  arise  in  other  parts.  The  professor  of 
law  who  is  interested  in  the  work  of  the  law  school 
alone,  or  the  professor  of  engineering,  of  medicine,  or  of 
classical  philology,  who  cannot  find  time  or  induce- 
ment to  concern  himself  with  questions  affecting  the 
entire  university,  or  those  parts  of  it  that  are  foreign 
to  his  immediate  field  of  interest,  is  doing  only  half 
his  academic  duty.  No  formula  can  be  suggested  for 
improving  these  conditions.  They  will  be  removed 
only  by  patiently  pointing  out,  year  after  year,  what 
the  words  obligation,  loyalty,  and  duty  mean,  and  by 
refusing  to  let  them  all  be  transmuted  either  into  labels 
for  ancient  superstitions  or  names  for  various  forms 


GOVERNMENT  AND  ADMINISTRATION      175 

of  personal  advantage.  In  order  to  keep  confidence 
in  the  ultimate  achievement  of  a  university's  aim,  and 
in  order  to  avoid  discouragement  at  the  slow  progress 
that  is  making,  one  may  take  comfort  in  the  saga- 
cious saying  of  Schiller:  "Let  no  man  measure  by  a 
scale  of  perfection  the  meagre  product  of  reality." 

One  of  the  unsatisfactory  aspects  of  the  relations  be- 
tween the  individual  teacher  and  his  college  or  uni- 
versity lies  in  the  procedure,  or  rather  lack  of  pro- 
cedure, that  is  followed  when  a  person  teaching  in  one 
institution  is  sought  by  the  authorities  of  another.  It 
appears  to  give  some  teachers  no  qualms  of  conscience 
to  receive  and  to  consider  an  invitation  from  another 
institution  without  discussing  this  with  colleagues  or 
administrative  authorities  of  the  institution  which  they 
are  serving,  or  even  without  revealing  it  to  them.  In 
fact,  there  is  a  certain  surreptitiousness  about  the 
tendering  and  accepting  invitations  to  pass  from  one 
college  or  university  to  another  that  is  not  creditable 
either  to  those  who  tender  the  invitations  or  to  those 
who  receive  and  either  accept  or  reject  them.  A  high 
standard  of  professional  honor  and  professional  obliga- 
tion would  seem  to  require  that  an  institution  which 
wishes  to  tender  an  invitation  to  an  officer  of  profes- 
sorial rank  elsewhere,  should  advise  the  president  of  the 
sister  institution  of  that  fact;  and  similarly  that  when 
it  is  desired  to  tender  an  invitation  to  an  officer  of  less 
than  professorial  rank,  advice  of  that  fact  should  be 
sent  to  the  head  of  the  department  of  the  college  or 


1 76       GOVERNMENT  AND  ADMINISTRATION 

university  in  which  the  person  in  question  is  serving. 
Academic  officers  are  very  quick  to  resent  being  in- 
vited to  withdraw  from  service,  no  matter  how  serious 
the  reason,  but  many  of  them  have  no  compunctions 
whatever  in  deserting  their  assigned  work  on  short 
notice,  or  on  no  notice  at  all,  in  order  either  to  accept 
service  in  another  institution,  or  to  enter  upon  a  prof- 
itable business  undertaking,  or  to  give  expression  to 
their  emotions.  There  can  be  no  serious  standards  of 
professional  conduct  in  the  calling  of  academic  teacher 
until  matters  like  these  are  regarded  as  important  and 
are  given  their  place  as  controlling  influences  in  shap- 
ing conduct. 


XVI 
MAKING  LIBERAL  MEN  AND  WOMEN 


From  the  Annual  Report  as  president  of  Columbia  University, 
June  30,  1920 


MAKING  LIBERAL  MEN  AND  WOMEN 

Few  things  are  more  noticeable  in  much  current 
writing  and  discussion  than  the  twisting  of  well-known 
terms  from  their  accustomed  meanings.  This  twisting 
is  quite  often  done  consciously  and  for  purposes  of 
propaganda.  Perhaps  no  word  in  the  English  language 
has  suffered  more  from  this  ill  treatment  than  the  fine 
word  liberal.  The  historic  and  familiar  significance  of 
this  term  is  that  which  is  worthy  of  a  free  man,  of  one 
who  is  open-minded  and  candid,  of  one  who  is  open  to 
the  reception  of  new  ideas.  In  this  sense  the  thought 
which  lies  behind  the  word  liberal  has  dominated 
every  really  progressive  theory  of  education  from  the 
time  of  Plato  to  the  present  day.  Just  now,  however, 
the  word  liberal  is  widely  used  as  though  it  were  sy- 
nonymous with  queer,  odd,  unconventional,  otherwise- 
minded,  in  perpetual  opposition.  There  was  a  time 
when  in  the  neighborhood  of  Boston  the  test  of  liber- 
alism was  the  rejection  of  the  Andover  Creed,  and 
possibly  the  rejection  of  the  Apostles'  Creed  itself. 
Many  would  include  among  liberals  those  who  favor 
all  sorts  of  social,  industrial,  and  governmental  tyr- 
anny, which  are  by  their  very  nature  incompatible  with 
liberty.  An  enemy  of  the  family  and  an  experimenter 
with  what  is  called  trial  marriage  is  now  called  a 
liberal.  The  person  who  would  destroy  government 
and  substitute  for  the  political  state  of  free  men  a 

179 


i8o       MAKING  LIBERAL  MEN  AND  WOMEN 

close-working  combination  of  industrial  autocracies  is 
called  a  liberal.  One  who  sneers  at  the  religious  faith 
or  the  political  convictions  of  others,  and  takes  care 
that  his  attitude  is  publicly  advertised,  is  called  a  lib- 
eral. Under  such  circumstances  it  is  plainly  necessary 
to  look  to  one's  definitions.  The  aim  of  the  school,  the 
college,  and  the  university  has  often  been  described  as 
that  of  making  liberal-minded  men  and  women;  but 
surely  this  need  not  be  interpreted  to  include  freaks, 
oddities,  revolutionaries,  and  those  whose  conduct 
carries  them  close  to  the  border-line  which,  if  crossed, 
would  require  them  to  be  put  in  confinement  in  the  in- 
terest of  social  welfare  and  social  safety. 

The  truly  liberal  man  or  woman  will  be  self-dis- 
ciplined, and  will  aim  to  make  knowledge  the  foundation 
of  wisdom,  to  base  conduct  upon  fixed  character,  and 
to  maintain  an  even  temper  at  difficult  times.  Con- 
sidering the  conditions  of  the  time  in  which  they  lived, 
the  ancient  Stoics  give  us  some  admirable  examples  of 
what  is  truly  meant  by  a  liberal.  We  cannot  afford  to 
let  this  word  be  lost  or  to  have  it  stolen  before  our  eyes. 
Its  application  should  be  denied  to  those  individuals 
and  those  traits  for  which  it  is  wrongly  claimed,  and 
its  true  definition  and  use  should  be  insisted  upon 
everywhere  and  at  all  times.  Otherwise,  we  shall  have 
to  find  some  other  definition  of  the  aim  of  education 
than  that  of  making  liberal  men  and  women. 

It  would  be  idle  to  ignore  the  fact  that  there  is  wide- 
spread public  dissatisfaction  with  the  results  of  present- 
day  education.  Horace  Greeley's  famous  classification 


MAKING  LIBERAL  MEN  AND  WOMEN       181 

of  college  graduates  with  horned  cattle  is  too  often 
quoted  with  approving  sarcasm.  The  mounting  cost  of 
education,  both  tax-supported  and  other,  and  its  di- 
verse competing  forms  are  increasingly  attracting  un- 
favorable public  attention  and  increasingly  arousing 
sharp  public  criticism.  The  qualifications  of  those  who 
teach  are  not  always  spoken  of  with  approbation.  In 
the  past  it  has  been  usual  to  assume  that  whatever  is 
done  in  the  name  of  education,  like  that  which  is  done 
in  the  name  of  philanthropy  or  religion,  is  of  necessity 
well  and  deservingly  done  and  is  to  be  supported  with- 
out murmur.  There  are,  however,  too  many  signs  that 
education  does  not  satisfactorily  educate  to  justify  or 
even  to  insure  a  longer  continuance  of  this  uncritical 
acquiescence.  What  is  the  trouble  ? 

Perhaps  a  hint  of  where  to  look  for  an  answer  may 
be  found  in  the  remark  of  an  undergraduate  who  had 
been  in  attendance  upon  a  lecture  by  one  of  the  fore- 
most living  authorities  in  his  field.  "A  very  scholarly 
lecture,"  the  undergraduate  was  heard  to  say  as  the 
audience  passed  out,  but  his  tone  was  one  of  distinct 
protest  that  he  had  spent  his  time  in  listening  to  schol- 
arship. Scholarship,  it  must  be  confessed,  is  not  pop- 
ular in  America,  and  what  is  blithely  referred  to  as  the 
revolt  against  intellectualism  is,  in  last  analysis,  noth- 
ing more  or  less  than  the  revolt  against  the  influence 
of  those  who  know.  It  is  the  passionate  cry  of  ig- 
norance for  power.  A  casual  impression  gained  from 
the  reading  of  some  hopelessly  befogged  magazine  or 
from  some  haphazard  newspaper  headline,  or  a  re- 


182       MAKING  LIBERAL  MEN  AND  WOMEN 

sponse  to  some  emotional  "urge" — the  newest  name 
for  appetite — is  greatly  preferred  to  real  knowledge. 
The  ruling  passion  just  now  is  not  to  know  and  to  un- 
derstand, but  to  get  ahead,  to  overturn  something,  to 
apply  in  ways  that  bring  material  advantage  some  bit 
of  information  or  some  acquired  skill.  Both  school  and 
college  have  in  large  part  taken  their  minds  off  the  true 
business  of  education,  which  is  to  prepare  youth  to  live, 
and  have  fixed  them  upon  something  which  is  very 
subordinate,  namely,  how  to  prepare  youth  to  make  a 
living.  This  is  all  part  and  parcel  of  the  prevailing 
tendency  to  measure  everything  in  terms  of  self-in- 
terest. Economic  explanations  of  the  conduct  of  in- 
dividuals, of  groups,  and  of  nations — that  is,  explana- 
tions based  upon  desire  for  gain  or  love  of  power — are 
sought  rather  than  explanations  based  upon  intellec- 
tual or  ethical  foundations.  But  a  civilization  based 
upon  self-interest  rather  than  upon  intellectual  and 
moral  principle  would  swiftly  lapse  into  the  barbarism 
out  of  which  it  has  come.  An  educational  system 
based  upon  self-interest  is  not  worthy  the  support  and 
the  sacrifice  of  a  civilized  people. 

We  are  doubtless  passing  through  a  period  of  reac- 
tion in  education  which  will  spend  itself  as  periods  of 
reaction  have  so  often  spent  themselves  before.  The 
sure  mark  of  a  real  reactionary  is  his  contempt  for  all 
that  man  has  learned  and  done,  and  his  demand  that 
the  history  of  human  achievement  be  thrown  away 
and  the  task  begun  all  over  again  on  the  basis  of  pres- 
ent-day dissatisfaction  and  distress,  The  sure  mark 


of  the  true  progressive  is  his  acceptance  of  human  ex- 
perience, his  desire  to  understand  and  to  interpret  it, 
and  his  determination  that  it  shall  be  made  the  foun- 
dation for  something  better,  something  happier,  and 
something  more  just  than  anything  which  has  gone 
before. 

The  underlying  condition  essential  to  human  happi- 
ness is  progress  in  the  power  to  produce.  Unless  that 
power  to  produce  is  the  outgrowth  of  understanding, 
of  mastery  of  principles,  of  knowledge  of  past  achieve- 
ment, and  of  insight  into  high  and  lasting  purpose,  it 
will  not  accomplish  anything  desirable  or  permanent. 
For  a  quarter  century  past  American  educational  prac- 
tice has  .been  steadily  losing  its  hold  upon  guiding 
principle  and  has,  therefore,  increasingly  come  to  float 
and  drift  about  upon  the  tide  of  mere  opinion,  without 
standards,  without  purpose,  and  without  insight.  The 
little  red  schoolhouse  of  the  generation  that  followed 
the  Civil  War,  with  its  wretchedly  poor  equipment  but 
with  an  earnest  and  devoted  teacher  who  laid  stress 
upon  character-building  and  upon  the  fundamentals  of 
intellectual  training,  did  more  for  the  American  peo- 
ple than  does  many  a  costly  and  well-equipped  edu- 
cational palace  such  as  may  be  seen  in  any  part  of  the 
United  States  to-day.  It  is  as  discouraging  as  it  is 
startling  to  find  Henry  James,  so  lately  as  1913,  de- 
scribing the  college  town  which  he  knew  best  as  "ut- 
terly arid  and  vacuous." 

This  decline  in  educational  power  is  primarily  the 
result  of  a  widely  influential  and  wholly  false  philosophy 


1 84       MAKING  LIBERAL  MEN  AND  WOMEN 

of  education  which  has  operated  to  destroy  the  excel- 
lence of  the  American  school  and  college,  as  these  ex- 
isted a  generation  ago,  without  putting  anything  in  its 
place.  It  has  been  dinned  into  our  ears  that  all  sub- 
jects are  of  equal  educational  value,  and  that  it  matters 
not  what  one  studies,  but  only  how  he  studies  it.  This 
doctrine  has  destroyed  the  standard  of  value  in  educa- 
tion, and  in  practical  application  is  making  us  a  widely 
instructed  but  an  uncultivated  and  undisciplined  peo- 
ple. We  are  now  solemnly  adjured  that  children,  how- 
ever young,  must  not  be  guided  or  disciplined  by  their 
elders,  but  that  they  must  be  permitted  to  give  full 
and  free  expression  to  their  own  individuality,  which 
can  of  course  only  mean  their  own  utter  emptiness. 
In  education  as  in  physics,  nature  abhors  a  vacuum. 
Were  such  a  theory  as  that  to  become  dominant  for  any 
length  of  time,  the  whole  world  would  thereby  be  sen- 
tenced to  remain  forever  in  the  incompetence  and  im- 
maturity of  childhood.  No  generation  would  be  helped 
or  permitted  to  stand  on  the  shoulders  of  its  prede- 
cessors, or  to  add  something  to  what  they  had  already 
gained.  Life  would  then  be  merely  an  everlasting  be- 
ginning, devoid  of  accomplishment  and  without  other 
aim  than  the  multiplication  of  nervous  reactions  to  a 
variety  of  accidental  and  rapidly  succeeding  stimuli. 
The  much  despised  TO  reXo?  is  essential  to  any  move- 
ment that  is  progress;  anything  else  is  mere  intellectual, 
social,  and  political  wriggling. 

With  the  decline  of  genuine  educational  guidance 
and  helpful  discipline  there  has  gone  an  increasingly 


MAKING  LIBERAL  MEN  AND  WOMEN       185 

vigorous  warfare  on  excellence  and  distinction  of  every 
kind,  which  is  truly  pathetic  in  its  destructiveness. 
Youth  are  told  that  they  must  exert  themselves  and 
excel,  but  if  they  chance  to  take  this  advice  and  suc- 
ceed they  are  then  pointed  to  as  the  evil  products  of  a 
harmful  and  ill-organized  social  system.  So  long  ago 
as  October  31,  1888,  Professor  Goldwin  Smith,  an  in- 
veterate liberal  and  a  keen  observer  of  his  kind,  wrote 
to  Mrs.  Humphry  Ward:  "Over  the  intellectual  dead- 
level  of  this  democracy  opinion  courses  like  the  tide 
running  in  over  a  flat."  Under  such  conditions  the 
mob  spirit  becomes  increasingly  powerful.  The  dema- 
gogue, the  persistent  and  plausible  self-seeker,  and 
those  who  possess  or  can  command  the  large  sums  of 
money  needed  to  advertise  themselves  throughout  the 
land,  occupy  the  largest  place  in  the  public  eye  and 
actually  come  to  think  of  themselves  and  be  thought 
of  as  representative  Americans.  It  is  not  surprising 
that  at  least  three-fourths  of  the  best  ability  and  best 
character  in  the  United  States  remains  in  hiding,  so 
far  as  public  knowledge  and  public  service  are  con- 
cerned. 

It  is  significant,  too,  that  in  this  period  of  vigorous 
and  able-bodied  reaction  the  world  should  be  without 
a  poet,  without  a  philosopher,  and  without  a  notable 
religious  leader.  The  great  voices  of  the  spirit  are  all 
stilled  just  now,  while  the  mad  passion  for  gain  and 
for  power  endeavors  to  gratify  itself  through  the  odd 
device  of  destroying  what  has  already  been  gained  or 
accomplished. 


186       MAKING  LIBERAL  MEN  AND  WOMEN 

To  get  back  upon  the  path  of  constructive  progress 
will  be  a  long  and  difficult  task.  A  first  step  will  be  to 
bring  back  the  elementary  school  to  its  own  proper 
business.  The  elementary  school  being  universal, 
well-organized,  and  easily  accessible,  has  been  seized 
upon  by  faddists  and  enthusiasts  of  every  type  as  an 
instrumentality  not  for  better  education,  but  for  ac- 
complishing their  own  particular  ends.  The  simple 
business  of  training  young  children  in  good  habits  of 
diet  and  exercise  and  conduct;  of  teaching  them  the 
elementary  facts  of  the  nature  which  surrounds  them 
and  of  the  society  of  which  they  form  a  part;  and  of 
giving  them  ability  to  read  understandingly,  to  write 
legibly,  and  to  perform  quickly  and  with  accuracy  the 
fundamental  operations  with  numbers,  has  been  pushed 
into  the  background  by  all  sorts  of  enterprises  that 
have  their  origin  in  emotionalism,  in  ignorance,  or  in 
mere  vanity.  Through  lack  of  knowledge  of  educa- 
tional values,  and  their  fear  of  an  uninformed  public 
opinion,  the  secondary  schools  and  the  colleges  have 
very  largely  abdicated  their  place  as  leaders  in  modern 
life  and  have  become  the  plaything  of  whatever  tem- 
porary and  passing  influences  may  operate  upon  them. 
In  the  hope  of  becoming  popular  they  have  thrown 
overboard  principle.  Throughout  elementary  school, 
high  school,  and  college,  teachers  are  too  often  not 
teachers  at  all,  but  preachers  or  propagandists  for  some 
doctrine  of  their  own  liking.  One  would  think  that 
the  business  of  teaching  was  sufficiently  simple  and 
sufficiently  important  to  be  kept  unconfused  with  other 


MAKING  LIBERAL  MEN  AND  WOMEN       187 

forms  of  influence;  but  such  has  not  been  the  case. 
Very  many  teachers  are  preachers  or  propagandists 
first  and  teachers  afterward. 

It  is  in  conditions  like  these  that  one  must  look  for 
an  explanation  of  the  costly  ineffectiveness  which  is  so 
sharply  charged  against  present-day  education  in  the 
United  States.  We  are  told  that  boys  and  girls,  young 
men  and  young  women,  spend  years  apparently  in 
study  and  then  leave  school  or  college  without  a  trained 
intelligence,  without  any  standards  of  appreciation  in 
art  or  in  morals,  with  wretched  manners,  with  slovenly 
speech,  and  without  capacity  to  approach  a  new  prob- 
lem dispassionately  or  to  reason  about  it  clearly.  It 
is  asserted  that  we  devote  untold  skill  and  labor  to  the 
teaching  of  French,  of  Spanish,  and  of  German,  and 
yet  the  high-school  or  college  graduate  who  can  speak 
or  write  any  one  of  these  languages  correctly  and 
freely,  or  read  them  save  with  difficulty,  is  rare  in- 
deed; that  for  fifty  years  we  have  poured  out  money 
without  stint  for  the  teaching  of  the  natural  and  ex- 
perimental sciences,  and  have  provided  costly  labora- 
tories and  collections  to  make  that  teaching  practical, 
yet  the  result,  so  far  as  giving  a  general  command  of 
scientific  method  or  general  knowledge  of  scientific 
facts  is  concerned,  is  quite  negligible;  that  school  and 
college  students  spend  years  upon  the  study  of  history 
and  yet  few  really  know  any  history;  that  these  stu- 
dents are  uniformly  taught  to  read  and  are  guided  to- 
ward reading  that  which  is  worth  while,  yet  it  is  clear 
that  the  greater  part  of  their  reading  is  of  that  which 


i88       MAKING  LIBERAL  MEN  AND  WOMEN 

is  unworthy  to  be  read.  More  criticism  than  was  ever 
levelled  against  the  study  of  Latin,  Greek,  and  mathe- 
matics based  upon  the  meagre  practical  results  ob- 
tained can  be  repeated  with  equal  force  against  those 
newer  subjects  of  school  and  college  study  which  have 
so  largely  displaced  Latin,  Greek,  and  mathematics. 

In  Columbia  College  a  definite  and  well-considered 
attempt  is  making  to  overcome  these  unfortunate  con- 
ditions of  modern  education,  and  to  build  a  wise, 
judicious,  and  truly  educational  programme  of  study 
upon  a  sound  foundation.  This  foundation  is  provided 
by  the  course  entitled  Introduction  to  Contemporary 
Civilization,  prescribed  for  all  members  of  the  fresh- 
man class,  and  given  five  times  weekly  throughout 
freshman  year.  The  purpose  of  this  course  is  to  give 
the  student  early  in  his  college  residence  a  body  of  ob- 
jective material  upon  which  to  base  his  own  later  and 
more  advanced  studies  and  his  own  judgments  con- 
cerning the  world  in  which  he  lives.  A  result  of  pre- 
scribing this  course  for  all  freshmen  is  to  make  sure 
that  every  student  in  Columbia  College  has  a  common 
starting-point  and  a  single  point  of  vantage  from  which 
to  study,  to  understand,  and  to  appreciate  the  world 
of  nature  and  of  man.  It  is  significant,  too,  that  in 
this  course  the  student  is  brought  at  once  face  to  face 
with  real  interests  and  with  genuine  problems  as  they 
exist  to-day.  These  interests  and  these  problems  are 
then  placed  in  their  historic  setting,  the  story  of  their 
development  is  traced,  and  they  are  analyzed  into  their 
simplest  parts.  The  large  measure  of  success  that  has 


MAKING  LIBERAL  MEN  AND  WOMEN       189 

attended  the  introduction  of  this  course,  and  the  great 
interest  taken  in  it  by  the  undergraduates  themselves, 
indicate  that  the  faculty  of  Columbia  College  is  on  the 
right  track,  and  that  it  seems  likely  to  do  its  full  part 
in  rescuing  American  college  education  from  the  re- 
proach that  is  so  often  heaped  upon  it,  sometimes  per- 
haps unjustly,  but  too  frequently  with  a  measure  of 
justice  that  we  cannot  refuse  to  recognize. 

The  college  faculty  has  gone  farther  and  in  establish- 
ing a  special  course  of  reading,  to  be  followed  through 
two  years  by  candidates  for  general  honors,  has  re- 
corded its  conviction  that  the  college  graduate  may 
properly  be  held  to  some  knowledge  of  the  master- 
pieces in  literature,  in  poetry,  in  history,  in  philosophy, 
and  in  science.  The  reading-list  at  present  given  to 
candidates  for  the  degree  of  Bachelor  of  Arts  with  gen- 
eral honors  includes:  Homer,  Herodotus,  Thucydides, 
^Eschylus,  Sophocles,  Euripides,  Aristophanes,  Plato, 
Aristotle,  Lucretius,  Horace,  Plutarch,  Marcus  Aurelius, 
St.  Augustine,  "The  Nibelungenlied,"  "The  Song  of 
Roland,"  St.  Thomas  Aquinas,  Dante,  Petrarch,  Mon- 
taigne, Shakespeare,  Cervantes,  Francis  Bacon,  Milton, 
Moliere,  David  Hume,  Montesquieu,  Voltaire,  Rous- 
seau, Adam  Smith,  Lessing,  Kant,  Schiller,  Goethe, 
Macaulay,  Victor  Hugo,  Hegel,  Darwin,  Lyell,  Tolstoi, 
Nietzsche. 

This  provides  a  rich  feast  of  reason,  and  if  it  is  want- 
ing in  any  respect  it  is  in  not  sufficiently  representing 
the  fine  arts,  other  than  poetry,  which  have  in  every 
age  been  the  finest  flower  of  a  people's  aspiration. 


.    XVII 
THE  NEW  PAGANISM 


From  the  Annual  Report  as  president  of  Columbia  University, 
June  30,  1920 


THE  NEW  PAGANISM 

Every  conceivable  explanation  of  unrest,  dissatisfac- 
tion, and  disorder  that  prevail  throughout  the  world 
has  been  proposed  except  the  one  which  is  probably  the 
deepest  and  most  important.  For  between  two  hun- 
dred and  three  hundred  years  the  modern  world  has 
been  in  a  state  of  intellectual  upheaval,  although  there 
are  those  who  think  that  this  condition  began  with  the 
World  War  or  was  caused  by  it.  This  upheaval  has 
grown  constantly  more  wide-spread  and  more  severe. 
The  forces  that  lie  behind  it  have  profoundly  affected 
the  religious  life  and  the  religious  faith  of  great  masses 
of  men,  have  shaken  their  confidence  in  age-old  prin- 
ciples of  private  morals  and  of  public  policy,  and  have 
left  them  blindly  groping  for  guiding  principles  to  take 
the  place  of  those  that  have  lost  their  hold.  A  genera- 
tion ago  John  Fiske,  in  one  of  his  luminous  essays, 
pointed  out  that  a  necessary  effect  of  the  Copernican 
theory  of  the  universe  was  to  make  the  earth  and  its 
inhabitants  seem  so  small  and  insignificant  as  to  be 
quite  unimportant  in  the  scheme  of  things  and  to 
transfer  the  centre  of  gravity  of  man's  interest  to  suns 
and  worlds  far  more  vast  and  far  more  important  than 
ours.  While  the  Copernican  theory  may  logically 
seem  to  have  required  this  result,  what  has  happened 
is  quite  different.  Man's  attention  and  interest  have 
been  increasingly  turned  to  himself,  his  immediate  sur- 

193 


i94  THE  NEW  PAGANISM 

roundings,  and  his  instant  occupation.  Having  come 
to  feel  himself  quite  superior  to  all  that  has  gone 
before,  and  being  without  faith  in  anything  that  lies 
beyond,  he  has  tended  to  become  an  extreme  egotist. 
The  natural  result  has  been  to  measure  the  universe 
in  terms  of  himself  and  his  present  satisfactions.  His 
own  emotions  and  his  own  appetites,  being  present  and 
immediate,  take  precedence  in  the  shaping  of  conduct 
and  of  policy  over  any  body  of  principles  built  up  by 
the  experience  of  others.  The  wisdom,  the  justice,  the 
morality  of  an  act  or  policy  are  then  tested  solely  by 
its  immediate  results,  and  these  results  are  increasingly 
measured  in  terms  of  the  material  and  emotional  satis- 
factions of  the  moment. 

In  a  world  so  constituted  and  so  motived,  unrest, 
dissatisfaction,  and  disorder  are  a  necessity.  Set  free 
a  million  or  a  thousand  million  wills  to  work  each  for 
the  accomplishment  of  its  own  immediate  material 
satisfactions,  and  nothing  but  unrest,  dissatisfaction, 
and  disorder  is  possible. 

What  appears  to  have  happened  is  that  in  setting 
free  the  individual  human  being  from  those  external 
restraints  and  compulsions  which  constitute  tyranny, 
he  has  also  been  set  free  from  those  internal  restraints 
and  compulsions  which  distinguish  liberty  from  license. 
The  pendulum  has  swung  too  far.  The  time  has  come, 
the  time  is  indeed  already  past,  when  the  pendulum 
should  begin  its  swing  backward  toward  the  middle 
point  of  wisdom,  of  sanity,  of  self-control,  and  of 
steady  progress. 


THE  NEW  PAGANISM  195 

There  is  no  man,  there  is  no  people,  without  a  God. 
That  God  may  be  a  visible  idol,  carved  of  wood  or 
stone,  to  which  sacrifice  is  offered  in  the  forest,  in  the 
temple,  or  in  the  market-place;  or  it  may  be  an  invisi- 
ble idol,  fashioned  in  a  man's  own  image  and  wor- 
shipped ardently  at  his  own  personal  shrine.  Some- 
where in  the  universe  there  is  that  in  which  each 
individual  has  firm  faith,  and  on  which  he  places 
steady  reliance.  The  fool  who  says  in  his  heart 
"There  is  no  God,"  really  means  there  is  no  God  but 
himself.  His  supreme  egotism,  his  colossal  vanity, 
have  placed  him  at  the  centre  of  the  universe  which  is 
thereafter  to  be  measured  and  dealt  with  in  terms  of 
his  personal  satisfactions.  So  it  has  come  to  pass 
that  after  nearly  two  thousand  years  much  of  the 
world  resembles  the  Athens  of  St.  Paul's  time,  in  that 
it  is  wholly  given  to  idolatry;  but  in  the  modern  case 
there  are  as  many  idols  as  idol-worshippers,  and  every 
such  idol-worshipper  finds  his  idol  in  the  looking-glass. 
The  time  has  come  once  again  to  repeat  and  to  ex- 
pound in  thunderous  tones  the  noble  sermon  of  St. 
Paul  on  Mars  Hill,  and  to  declare  to  these  modern 
idolaters  "Whom,  therefore,  ye  ignorantly  worship, 
Him  declare  I  unto  you." 

There  can  be  no  cure  for  the  world's  ills  and  no 
abatement  of  the  world's  discontents  until  faith  and 
the  rule  of  everlasting  principle  are  again  restored 
and  made  supreme  in  the  life  of  men  and  of  nations. 
These  millions  of  man-made  gods,  these  myriads  of 
personal  idols,  must  be  broken  up  and  destroyed,  and 


196  THE  NEW  PAGANISM 

the  heart  and  mind  of  man  brought  back  to  a  com- 
prehension of  the  real  meaning  of  faith  and  its  place 
in  life.  This  cannot  be  done  by  exhortation  or  by 
preaching  alone.  It  must  be  done  also  by  teaching; 
careful,  systematic,  rational  teaching,  that  will  show 
in  a  simple  language,  which  the  uninstructed  can 
understand,  what  are  the  essentials  of  a  permanent 
and  lofty  morality,  of  a  stable  and  just  social  order, 
and  of  a  secure  and  sublime  religious  faith. 

Here  we  come  upon  the  whole  great  problem  of 
national  education,  its  successes  and  its  disappoint- 
ments, its  achievements  and  its  problems  yet  un- 
solved. Education  is  not  merely  instruction — far  from 
it.  It  is  the  leading  of  the  youth  out  into  a  compre- 
hension of  his  environment,  that,  comprehending,  he 
may  so  act  and  so  conduct  himself  as  to  leave  the 
world  better  and  happier  for  his  having  lived  in  it. 
This  environment  is  not  by  any  means  a  material 
thing  alone.  It  is  material  of  course,  but,  in  addition, 
it  is  intellectual,  it  is  spiritual.  The  youth  who  is  led 
to  an  understanding  of  nature  and  of  economics  and 
left  blind  and  deaf  to  the  appeals  of  literature,  of  art, 
of  morals,  and  of  religion,  has  been  shown  but  a  part 
of  that  great  environment  which  is  his  inheritance  as 
a  human  being.  The  school  and  the  college  do  much, 
but  the  school  and  the  college  cannot  do  all.  Since 
Protestantism  broke  up  the  solidarity  of  the  ecclesi- 
astical organization  in  the  Western  world,  and  since 
democracy  made  intermingling  of  state  and  church 
impossible,  it  has  been  necessary,  if  religion  is  to  be 


THE  NEW  PAGANISM  197 

saved  for  men,  that  the  family  and  the  church  do  their 
vital  co-operative  part  in  a  national  organization  of 
educational  effort.  The  school,  the  family,  and  the 
church  are  three  co-operating  educational  agencies, 
each  of  which  has  its  weight  of  responsibility  to  bear. 
If  the  family  be  weakened  in  respect  of  its  moral  and 
spiritual  basis,  or  if  the  church  be  neglectful  of  its 
obligation  to  offer  systematic,  continuous,  and  con- 
vincing religious  instruction  to  the  young  who  are 
within  its  sphere  of  influence,  there  can  be  no  hope 
for  a  Christian  education  or  for  the  powerful  perpetu- 
ation of  the  Christian  faith  in  the  minds  and  lives  of 
the  next  generation  and  those  immediately  to  follow. 
We  are  trustees  of  a  great  inheritance.  If  we  abuse  or 
neglect  that  trust  we  are  responsible  before  Almighty 
God  for  the  infinite  damage  that  will  be  done  in  the 
life  of  individuals  and  of  nations. 

The  contacts  and  associations  of  civilized  men  are 
many  and  various.  The  two  contacts  and  associa- 
tions that  have  been  most  lasting  and  most  influential 
are  those  which  constitute  the  state  and  the  church. 
The  state  is  the  expression  of  man's  ability  to  co- 
operate with  his  fellows  in  establishing  law,  in  pre- 
serving order,  and,  as  the  generations  pass,  in  pro- 
tecting the  opportunity  of  each  individual  to  achieve 
and  to  enjoy  liberty.  The  church  is  the  expression  of 
man's  desire  to  co-operate  in  worship  of  the  object  of 
his  faith.  Both  state  and  church  have  a  long  and 
familiar  history,  and  there  is  no  need  to  recount  any 
part  of  it  here,  Of  the  other  contacts  and  associations 


198  THE  NEW  PAGANISM 

of  men,  none  is  likely  to  be  considered  more  important 
than  that  which  has  for  its  purpose  the  conservation, 
the  advancement,  and  the  dissemination  of  knowledge, 
together  with  the  pursuit  of  truth,  upon  which  activity 
all  knowledge  depends  for  its  vital  power.  When  men 
are  sufficiently  convinced  that  the  pursuit  of  truth  is 
an  object  worthy  of  their  lifelong  endeavor,  the  uni- 
versity as  we  now  know  it  comes  into  existence  as  both 
the  voice  and  the  symbol  of  this  form  of  human  activ- 
ity. When  men  associate  together  in  pursuit  of  truth, 
their  ruling  thought  is  not  agreement,  but  truth  as 
each  finds  and  interprets  it.  For  this  reason  there  will 
be  in  the  university  nothing  which  approaches  agree- 
ment or  unity  as  to  matters  of  politics  or  religion 
beyond  the  fact  that  honest  and  sincere  men  are  pro- 
tected in  their  right  to  hold  such  political  and  religious 
views  as  they  may  choose,  provided  only  that  these 
are  consistent  with  the  pursuit  of  truth  itself  and  with 
the  welfare  and  usefulness  of  the  particular  society  of 
scholars  to  which  they  belong.  With  all  the  good-will 
in  the  world  toward  an  individual  who  might  dissent 
from  the  multiplication  table  or  insist  that  he  had 
solved  the  problem  of  perpetual  motion,  the  teachers 
of  mathematics  and  of  physics  would  not  be  able  to 
find  a  place  for  him  in  their  teaching  ranks.  Some- 
where in  the  fields  of  religion  and  politics  a  similar 
line  is  to  be  drawn,  but  it  is  difficult  to  find,  and  still 
more  difficult  to  apply  if  found. 

There  is  no  recognized  doctrine  of  human  liberty 
which  extends  to  the  individual  the  unchallenged  right 


THE  NEW  PAGANISM  199 

to  take  his  own  life.  If  he  attempts  it  he  is  forcibly 
prevented,  and  if  he  attempts  it  and  .fails,  he  is  pun- 
ished. What  is  true  of  an  individual  is  true  likewise 
of  men's  associations  in  the  state  and  in  the  church. 
There  comes  a  time  when  dissent  takes  on  the  form  of 
suicide  or  assault  with  intent  to  kill,  and  when,  there- 
fore, it  is  prevented  and  punished.  The  philosophical 
basis  for  this  is  clear  enough.  There  can  be  no  serious 
discussion  of  truth  and  no  sincere  attempt  to  answer 
the  question  of  jesting  Pilate,  unless  it  be  assumed 
that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  truth  to  be  pursued,  and, 
if  possible,  found.  When  found  and  demonstrated, 
truth  is  to  be  recognized  and  acted  upon.  It  will  not 
do  for  some  one  else  to  say  that  he  has  a  wholly  con- 
trary conception  of  truth,  or  that  truth  for  him  means 
something  quite  other  than  truth  for  any  one  else. 
Some  forms  of  this  genially  inconsequent  doctrine  are 
just  now  enjoying  a  certain  short-lived  popularity 
based  upon  a  false  psychology  and  a  grievous  travesty 
on  philosophy,  but  their  irrationality  and  the  im- 
morality of  conduct  based  upon  them  are  so  obvious 
that  their  life  is  certain  to  be  short. 

Underlying  the  organization  of  the  university,  then, 
there  is  a  certain  general,  very  general,  agreement  on  a 
series  of  fundamental  assumptions  as  to  the  state  and 
the  church;  Columbia  University,  for  instance,  is  both 
American  and  Christian.  Unless  a  university  entirely 
abandons  its  own  peculiar  aim  and  becomes  merely  an 
instrument  of  propaganda  for  some  specific  doctrine,  it 
cannot  in  its  institutional  capacity  properly  go  beyond 


200  THE  NEW  PAGANISM 

this  and  be  drawn  into  either  political  or  religious 
controversy.  Its  individual  members,  be  they  few  or 
many,  will  follow  the  guidance  of  their  several  heads 
and  hearts  in  seeking  or  accepting  political  and  reli- 
gious associations  and  in  advancing  specific  political  or 
religious  doctrines;  but  they  will  not,  indeed  they 
cannot,  thereby  commit  the  university  to  their  own 
convictions  or  beliefs. 

It  must  be  borne  in  mind,  then,  that  any  member  of 
a  university  who  does  his  duty  as  he  sees  it  in  citizen- 
ship and  in  the  religious  life  is  doing  it  solely  as  an 
individual,  and  that  his  university  relationship  or  ac- 
tivity is  in  no  wise  affected  thereby.  This  is  a  hard 
lesson  for  some  observers  of  contemporary  life  to  learn. 
They  do  not  seem  able  to  understand  how  it  is  that 
one  individual  may  have  a  variety  of  human  associa- 
tions and  yet  not  commit  them  all  to  his  own  course 
in  relation  to  any  one  of  them.  Clear  thinking  will 
distinguish  between  men's  different  associations,  and  it 
will  be  able  to  render  unto  Caesar  the  things  which 
are  Caesar's,  and  to  render  unto  God  the  things  which 
are  God's. 


XVIII 
THE  BUILDING  OF  CHARACTER 


Address  at  opening  of  one  hundred  and  fifty-second  academic 
year,  September  27,  1905 


THE  BUILDING  OF  CHARACTER 

My  first  word  to  the  members  of  the  university, 
young  and  old,  must  be  welcome;  welcome  to  a  new 
year  of  work,  of  growth,  and  of  service.  Illness  and 
death  have  brought  us  pain  and  grief  since  we  parted 
for  the  summer  recess,  and  we  stand  to-day  in  the 
shadow  of  our  heavy  and  latest  sorrow.  We  cherish 
the  memory  and  the  example  of  those  who  have  gone 
from  us,  and  for  those  who  are  ill  we  earnestly  wish  a 
speedy  and  complete  recovery  to  health  and  strength. 

Many  of  you  are  here  for  the  first  time,  and  we  older 
friends  and  colleagues  understand  full  well  the  thrill  of 
pride  and  enthusiasm  that  accompanies  the  conscious- 
ness that  you  have  voluntarily  associated  yourselves 
with  one  of  the  world's  recognized  centres  of  power. 
Each  year  will  find  you  more  appreciative  of  what 
Columbia  has  been  and  is,  and  of  what  Columbia  is 
steadily  coming  to  be.  And  as  the  true  significance  of 
the  university  grows  clearer,  you  will  gain  new  joy 
and  happiness  from  sharing  in  some  measure  its  glory 
and  its  fame. 

May  I  detain  you  a  moment  to  point  out  one  fun- 
damental fact  ?  Diverse  as  our  intellectual  interests 
here  are,  and  various  as  are  our  daily  tasks,  there  is 
one  aim  which  all  faculties  and  schools,  all  teachers 
and  scholars,  have  in  common — the  building  of  char- 
acter. Whether  we  pursue  the  older  liberal  studies  or 

203 


204  THE  BUILDING  OF  CHARACTER 

the  newer  applications  of  knowledge  or  some  one  of 
the  learned  professions,  we  are  all  concerned,  first  and 
foremost,  with  the  forming  of  those  traits  and  habits 
which  together  constitute  character.  If  we  fail  in  this 
all  our  learning  is  an  evil. 

Just  now  the  American  people  are  receiving  some 
painful  lessons  in  practical  ethics.  They  are  having 
brought  home  to  them,  with  severe  emphasis,  the  dis- 
tinction between  character  and  reputation.  A  man's 
true  character,  it  abundantly  appears,  may  be  quite  in 
conflict  with  his  reputation,  which  is  the  public  esti- 
mate of  him.  Of  late  we  have  been  watching  reputa- 
tions melt  away  like  snow  before  the  sun;  and  the  sun 
in  this  case  is  publicity.  Men  who  for  years  have 
been  trusted  implicitly  by  their  fellows  and  so  placed 
in  positions  of  honor  and  grave  responsibility  are  seen 
to  be  mere  reckless  speculators  with  the  money  of 
others  and  petty  pilferers  of  the  savings  of  the  poor 
and  needy.  With  all  this  shameful  story  spread  before 
us  it  takes  some  courage  to  follow  Emerson's  advice 
not  to  bark  against  the  bad,  but  rather  to  chant  the 
beauty  of  the  good. 

Put  bluntly,  the  situation  which  confronts  Ameri- 
cans to-day  is  due  to  lack  of  moral  principle.  New 
statutes  may  be  needed,  but  statutes  will  not- put 
moral  principle  where  it  does  not  exist.  The  greed 
for  gain  and  the  greed  for  power  have  blinded  men  to 
the  time-old  distinction  between  right  and  wrong. 
Both  among  business  men  and  at  the  bar  are  to  be 
found  advisers,  counted  shrewd  and  successful,  who 


THE  BUILDING  OF  CHARACTER  205 

have  substituted  the  penal  code  for  the  moral  law  as 
the  standard  of  conduct.  Right  and  wrong  have 
given  way  to  the  subtler  distinction  between  legal, 
not-illegal,  and  illegal;  or  better,  perhaps,  between 
honest,  law-honest,  and  dishonest.  This  new  triumph 
of  mind  over  morals  is  bad  enough  in  itself;  but  when, 
in  addition,  its  exponents  secure  material  gain  and 
professional  prosperity,  it  becomes  a  menace  to  our 
integrity  as  a  people. 

Against  this  casuistry  of  the  counting-house  and  of 
the  law-office,  against  this  subterfuge  and  deceit,  real 
character  will  stand  like  a  rock.  This  university,  and 
all  universities,  in  season  and  out  of  season,  must  keep 
clearly  in  view  before  themselves  and  the  public  the 
real  meaning  of  character,  and  they  must  never  tire 
of  preaching  that  character  and  character  alone  makes 
knowledge,  skill,  and  wealth  a  help  rather  than  a  harm 
to  those  who  possess  them  and  to  the  community  as  a 
whole. 


XIX 

WORTHY  COMPANIONSHIP 


Address  at  opening  of  the  one  hundred  and  fifty-ninth 
academic  year,  September  25,  1912 


WORTHY  COMPANIONSHIP 

When  we  assemble  the  university  on  each  recurring 
commencement  day,  it  is  natural  for  us  to  look  back 
at  what  has  been  accomplished  in  the  year  that  has 
passed.  When  we  assemble  the  university  on  the 
opening  day  of  a  new  academic  year,  it  is  equally 
natural  to  look  forward  with  hope  and  anticipation  to 
the  new  paths  that  are  opening  out  before  us.  To 
such  a  new  year,  the  one  hundred  and  fifty-ninth  in 
the  history  of  Columbia,  I  offer  a  cordial  and  heartfelt 
welcome  both  to  the  scholars  who  teach  and  to  the 
scholars  who  learn,  to  those  who  have  returned  to  a 
place  that  is  already  familiar  and  beloved,  and  to 
those  who  join  us  for  the  first  time.  We  shall  at 
once  start  each  upon  his  separate  way,  but  we  shall  be 
animated  throughout  the  year  by  a  common  purpose 
and  by  a  common  love  and  loyalty  to  the  university 
which  includes  us  all  and  which  alone  make  possible 
the  rich  and  helpful  opportunities  that  are  offered 
to  us. 

Let  us  each  resolve  during  the  academic  year  now 
opening  to  strengthen  and  make  firmer  our  hold  upon 
something  that  really  lasts,  something  that  is  worth 
while,  something  that  is  raised  above  the  temporary 
turmoils  and  vulgar  self-seeking  of  the  day.  Let  us 
close  our  ears,  so  far  as  possible,  to  the  roar  of  malice, 

209 


210  WORTHY  COMPANIONSHIP 

untruthfulness,  and  slander  that  fills  the  air  of  this 
year  of  grace. 

There  is  one  word  of  counsel  that  I  offer  to  each 
member  of  this  university,  whatever  his  field  of  study 
and  whatever  his  chief  intellectual  occupation.  Re- 
solve to  pass  the  year  in  company  with  some  one  high 
and  noble  character  that  has  left  a  mark  on  the  world 
and  set  a  standard  which  is  at  once  an  invitation  and 
an  inspiration.  Doubtless  many  such  suggest  them- 
selves; but,  to  be  concrete  and  specific,  I  will  name 
some  that  occur  to  me  as  of  particular  significance  and 
interest  just  now. 

Let  the  year  be  made  noteworthy,  for  example,  by 
passing  it  in  company  with  the  poetry  of  Alfred  Tenny- 
son, a  poet  who  will  one  day  be  even  more  highly 
appreciated  than  at  present,  not  only  for  the  sweet- 
ness of  his  song,  but  for  the  scope  and  profundity  of 
his  thought.  Do  not  read  at  the  poetry  of  Tennyson, 
do  not  read  about  the  poetry  of  Tennyson,  but  read 
the  poetry  of  Tennyson  itself.  Commit  to  memory 
some  of  those  passages  which  are  at  once  a  comfort 
and  a  delight  to  all  intelligent  persons. 

Or,  if  in  another  mood,  pass  the  year  in  close  and 
familiar  company  with  the  Essays  of  Emerson.  Learn 
from  him  the  difference  between  gold  and  dross. 
Learn  from  him  the  secret  of  the  perpetual  move- 
ment of  the  spirit  and  the  secret  of  the  making  of 
standards.  Let  him  teach  you  how  to  think  about 
things  that  matter.  Go  with  him  along  the  bypaths 
of  reflection  until  you  become  familiar  and  in  love  with 


WORTHY  COMPANIONSHIP  211 

some  of  the  most  charming  nooks  and  crannies  into 
which  real  thought  penetrates. 

Or,  again,  if  thirsting  for  the  companionship  of  a  life 
of  action  and  of  service,  driven  by  the  motive  power  of 
high  purpose  and  a  moral  ideal,  spend  the  year  with 
that  masterpiece  of  biography,  Lord  Morley's  Life  of 
Gladstone.  In  those  volumes  you  may  watch  the 
growth  of  a  powerful  mind  and  a  strong  character 
through  contact  with  great  problems  and  large  ideals. 
You  may  witness  a  course  of  education  in  public 
affairs  through  association  with  genuine  problems, 
with  real  public  interests,  and  with  the  highest  con- 
ceptions of  a  nation's  service. 

A  fourth  suggestion  occurs  to  me.  The  nineteenth 
century  left  no  nobler  or  inspiring  life  than  that  of 
Pasteur.  Perhaps  you  may  prefer  to  pass  the  year  in 
company  with  that  life  as  told  by  Vallery-Radot.  The 
history  of  scientific  inquiry  contains  nothing  more  full 
of  suggestion  and  more  abundant  in  conquests  than 
the  story  of  the  life  of  this  greatest  of  modern  French- 
men. From  that  story  you  may  learn  the  real  mean- 
ing of  the  words  scientific  method.  From  that  story 
you  may  learn  the  real  meaning  of  the  conception  of 
science  in  the  service  of  public  weal. 

Whether  you  choose  as  your  companion  of  this  year 
the  poetry  of  Tennyson,  or  the  Essays  of  Emerson,  or 
the  Life  of  Gladstone,  or  the  Life  of  Pasteur,  you  will 
have  an  association  never  to  be  forgotten.  From  this 
companionship  you  will  gain  a  centre  point  about 
which  to  organize  your  own  personal  academic  studies. 


212  WORTHY  COMPANIONSHIP 

From  it  you  will  get  a  keystone  for  the  arch  that  you 
are  hoping  to  build.  From  it  you  will  get  a  sense  of 
achievement  and  of  worth  that  will  contribute  power- 
fully to  your  intellectual  and  moral  growth  as  a  human 
being. 


XX 
REASONABLENESS 


Address  at  opening  of  one  hundred  and  sixty-third  academic 
year,  September  27,  1916 


REASONABLENESS 

One  of  the  chief  purposes  for  which  a  university 
exists  is  thrown  into  strong  relief  by  the  happenings 
that  are  taking  place  round  about  us  on  every  side. 
A  university  aims  to  exhibit  and  to  teach  reasonable- 
ness. It  aims  to  exhibit  and  to  teach  orderly  and 
judicious  examination  of  facts  and  of  arguments.  It 
is  averse  to  the  use  of  force  where  reason  should  rule, 
and  it  deplores  the  overruling  of  reason  by  force. 
Just  now  force  is  regnant,  or  is  aiming  to  ascend  the 
throne  of  power,  wherever  one  looks.  In  the  relations 
between  nations,  in  the  carrying  forward  of  our  social 
and  industrial  life,  and  even  in  the  dealings  of  one 
individual  with  another,  we  are  being  treated  to  un- 
usually numerous  and  unusually  distressing  examples 
of  the  use  of  force.  "Force,"  said  Joubert,  "rules 
the  world  until  Right  is  ready."  A  true  university 
will  labor  in  season  and  out  of  season  to  make  the 
world  ready  and  willing  for  the  rule  of  right. 

A  university  must  exhibit  and  -teach  reasonableness. 
Reasonableness  is  more  than  rationality;  it  is  more 
than  the  rule  of  reason.  Reasonableness  is  a  quality 
of  temper  as  well  as  of  intellect.  It  implies  the  con- 
trol of  passion  and  emotion  by  reason,  not  as  an 
occasional  or  unusual  act,  but  as  a  general  habit  and 
type  of  character.  The  university  calls  to  each  one 

215 


216  REASONABLENESS 

of  us,  teachers  and  students  alike,  to  cultivate  reason- 
ableness, open-mindedness,  gentleness,  and  kindliness 
of  feeling,  and  the  endeavor  to  escape  from  the  mere 
rule  of  force  or  from  the  adoration  of  physical  and 
material  power.  If  we  make  this  coming  year  a  year 
of  growth  in  reasonableness  we  shall  have  done,  each 
one  of  us,  what  we  can  to  fulfil  one  of  the  high  aims 
for  which  this  university  exists. 


XXI 

STEADFAST  IN  THE  FAITH 


Address  delivered  in  St.  Paul's  Chapel,  Columbia  University, 
November  28,  1917 


STEADFAST  IN  THE  FAITH 

The  revolving  year  brings  us  again  to  the  eve  of 
Thanksgiving.  This  glad  festival,  to  which  we  are 
summoned  by  the  President  of  the  United  States  in 
compelling  words,  is  a  notable  happening  in  our  na- 
tional life.  For  generations  it  has  taken  the  place  of 
the  ancient  festival  of  harvest-home,  and  has  served 
as  an  invitation  and  as  an  opportunity  to  give  thanks 
to  Almighty  God  for  His  blessings  and  His  benefits. 

One  may  ask,  as  each  year  follows  in  the  steps  of 
those  that  have  gone  before,  what  is  it  that  we  shall 
just  now  be  thankful  for  ?  What  is  it  that  we  shall 
just  now  single  out  for  emphasis  in  our  own  thinking 
and  in  our  own  worship  ?  Is  it  carnage  ?  Is  it  de- 
struction ?  Is  it  infinite  loss  of  life  and  toilsomely 
acquired  property  and  opportunity  ?  Is  it  a  harvest 
of  hate  ?  No,  it  is  none  of  these  things.  We  could 
not  be  thankful  for  them,  for  any  one  of  them,  and 
hold  our  heads  erect  as  sincere  and  God-fearing  men 
and  women. 

We  must,  members  of  the  university,  look  beneath 
the  surface  and  find  something  there  revealed  to  our 
vision  which  shall,  like  Thanksgiving  day  itself,  not 
only  invite  but  compel  our  thankfulness.  What  is  it  ? 
Is  it  not  the  vision  to  see,  the  will  to  decide,  the  power 
to  execute,  and  the  steadfastness  to  continue  in  the 
faith  and  the  power  of  the  everlasting  principles  of 

219 


220  STEADFAST  IN  THE  FAITH 

human  justice  and  human  liberty  ?  Suppose  that 
there  had  been  no  people  with  this  faith  and  this  will 
and  this  power;  suppose  that  the  whole  world,  with 
all  of  its  accumulations  and  all  of  its  opportunities, 
had  been  left  undefended,  to  be  preyed  upon  by  the 
forces  of  destruction,  what  would  have  been  the  sub- 
ject of  Thanksgiving  day  for  our  children  ?  It  might 
have  been  that  they  would  have  had  a  memory  to  look 
back  upon  what  their  fathers  and  their  forefathers  had 
enjoyed,  but  which  they,  alas,  through  the  impotence  of 
their  fathers,  had  lost.  But  our  thanksgiving,  thank 
God,  takes  another  form.  We  are  thankful  and  grate- 
ful, on  this  November  day,  for  the  faith  and  the  stead- 
fastness, not  alone  of  our  nation,  but  of  other  great 
nations  older  than  ours,  which,  more  quickly  than  we, 
acted  on  their  instincts  and  their  impulses,  and  as 
clearly  as  we,  perhaps  more  clearly,  saw  the  great 
issue  and  proceeded  to  its  determination. 

Out  of  our  body  have  gone  for  service  and  for 
sacrifice  almost  countless  numbers  of  teachers  and  of 
taught,  and  those  who,  though  no  longer  on  our  rolls, 
are  proudly  held  among  alumni  as  our  elder  brothers. 
They  have  gone  by  the  hundred.  They  will  go  before 
the  end  comes  by  the  thousand.  But  they  will  go 
singing  and  with  courage  in  the  faith  and  the  stead- 
fastness which  are  theirs  and  in  the  faith  and  the 
steadfastness  which  they  leave  behind  them  here. 

Everything  that  we  hold  dear  now  depends  upon 
the  faith  and  the  steadfastness  of  England,  of  France, 
of  Italy,  and  of  America.  There  are  other  allies,  help- 


STEADFAST  IN  THE  FAITH  221 

ful  and  eager,  but  those  peoples  first  in  the  line  of 
civilization,  of  advancement,  must  provide  the  faith 
and  the  steadfastness  on  which  the  future  history  of 
free  man  is  to  be  built. 

May  we  not  be  thankful  from  the  very  depths  of  our 
beings  when  we  see  how  splendid,  how  magnificent, 
how  generous,  have  been  the  convictions,  the  efforts, 
and  the  sacrifices  that  have  all  indicated  with  con- 
vincing certainty  what  the  issue,  however  distant,  is 
to  be  ? 

But,  members  of  the  university,  if  we  are  to  have 
faith  and  if  we  are  to  continue  steadfast,  there  must 
be  something  in  which  we  believe  and  for  which  we 
hold  steadfastness  to  be  a  virtue.  That  is  the  answer 
to  the  false  teaching  that  there  are  no  principles,  that 
everything  merely  happens,  and  that  one  happening  is 
as  important  as  another,  and  that  life  and  history  are 
like  the  meaningless  play  of  the  log  swept  in  and  out 
of  the  harbor,  helplessly,  on  the  moving  tides  of  a 
restless  ocean.  Believe  me,  that  teaching  is  false.  Be- 
lieve me,  that  teaching  would  destroy  the  basis  of  your 
character  and  mine,  of  this  nation's  life,  of  England's 
life,  of  France's  life,  of  Italy's  life,  of  the  life  of  each 
one  of  them,  for  national  character  resembles  indi- 
vidual character  in  this,  that  it  reveals  itself  in  con- 
duct. It  was,  if  I  recall  rightly,  Mr.  Emerson  who 
used  the  striking  saying:  "What  you  are  makes  so 
much  noise  that  I  cannot  hear  what  you  say."  Never 
was  the  distinction  between  conduct  and  mere  speech 
more  directly  or  more  emphatically  put.  It  makes  no 


222  STEADFAST  IN  THE  FAITH 

difference,  members  of  the  university,  what  we  profess, 
unless  our  conduct  be  adjusted  to  that  profession,  re- 
veals it,  and  takes  command  of  it  for  fullest  expression. 

There  are,  then,  these  fundamental  principles.  I  do 
not  stop  this  morning  to  state  them  anew.  They  have 
been  stated  with  superb  eloquence  in  more  languages 
than  one  and  by  more  statesmen  and  philosophers  and 
men  of  letters  than  could  be  gathered  in  this  great 
church.  We  know  them  all,  we  realize  them  all,  we 
have  faith  in  them,  and,  for  that  faith,  we  are  thank- 
ful. We  shall  be  steadfast  for  them,  and,  for  that 
steadfastness,  we  are  thankful. 

Just  now,  the  effort  of  our  enemies — our  enemies  of 
every  type,  the  enemies  of  our  nation  and  the  enemies 
of  social  order  and  progress  in  every  nation — is  not  so 
much  now  to  undermine  our  faith  as  it  is  to  under- 
mine our  steadfastness.  Victory  in  this  war  must 
depend  ultimately  upon  those  moral  qualities  which 
persist,  which  shall  not  be  discouraged  by  delay,  by 
temporary  check,  by  sacrifice,  or  by  suffering,  and 
which  shall  not  be  worn  away  by  cunning  and  subtle 
pleas  to  our  selfishness,  by  the  seduction  of  phrases, 
or  by  the  solicitations  of  demagogues.  Our  steadfast- 
ness, if  we  are  to  have  it  and  to  be  thankful  for  it, 
must  resist  all  those  things. 

Our  enemies  have  surrendered  any  hope  of  winning 
this  war  in  a  military  sense.  The  failure  of  their  sub- 
marine attack  on  Great  Britain,  their  inability  to 
defend  themselves  against  one  thrust  after  another  on 
the  western  front,  have  convinced  them  that,  on  the 
field  of  battle,  this  war  cannot  be  won  by  them. 


STEADFAST  IN  THE  FAITH  223 

Therefore,  during  months  past,  they  have  set  out  to 
win  it  in  other  ways.  They  have  set  out  to  win  it  by 
cunning  devices  to  weaken  steadfastness  and  even  to 
weaken  faith  in  the  armies,  in  the  populations,  and  in 
the  governments  of  those  who  are  upholding  the  cause 
of  human  freedom  and  human  progress.  They  go 
about  with  subtle  pleas  to  selfishness,  with  suggestions 
of  greater  comfort,  greater  material  gain,  suggestions  as 
to  why  should  this  loss,  this  sacrifice,  go  on,  in  the 
hope  that,  by  breaking  down  the  unity  of  purpose 
among  the  free  nations,  by  corrupting  their  national 
character,  and  by  seducing  them  from  steadfastness, 
this  war  may  end  in  a  drawn  battle,  which  is  a  German 
victory. 

That,  members  of  the  university,  is  what  is  going  on 
before  your  eyes  and  mine.  It  is  going  on  in  Petro- 
grad,  it  is  going  on  in  Rome,  it  is  going  on  in  Paris,  it 
is  going  on  in  New  York.  Shall  our  steadfastness,  our 
steadfastness  as  men  and  women  with  individual 
responsibility  and  individual  lives  to  live,  be  proof 
against  this  attack  ?  Shall  our  national  steadfast- 
ness hold  out  ?  If  they  do,  this  new  form  of  seduction 
will  fail  as  the  submarine  warfare  has  failed,  and  the 
sun  of  that  lasting  and  durable  peace,  for  which  all 
rational  men  are  looking  and  waiting  and  working,  will 
begin  to  rise  over  a  now  clouded  and  darkened  world. 

That,  members  of  the  university,  is  what  we  must 
recognize.  It  is  there  that  we  must  seek  the  subjects 
of  our  reflection  this  morning.  It  is  there  that  we 
must  look  for  that  over  which  we  are  to  rejoice  and  for 
which  we  are  to  be  thankful.  We  are  to  rejoice  and 


224  STEADFAST  IN  THE  FAITH 

be  thankful  for  faith  in  these  principles.  We  are  to 
rejoice  and  be  thankful  for  steadfastness  in  their  up- 
holding and  their  execution.  And  then  we  are  to  see 
to  it,  each  and  all,  that  nothing  happens  to  weaken 
that  faith,  that  nothing  happens  to  destroy  or  hamper 
that  steadfastness,  in  order  that  our  nation's  character, 
and  our  character — your  character  and  mine — may 
count  in  this  world  for  construction,  for  upbuilding, 
for  advance,  and  may  not  be  allowed,  even  for  an 
instant,  by  the  lightest  word  or  the  most  foolish  act,  to 
hamper  the  great  and  splendid  progress  of  those  ideas 
that  are  so  surely  marching  on.  And,  our  beloved 
university !  When,  in  her  long  history,  has  she  ever 
revealed  herself  more  truly  than  at  this  crisis,  when  has 
she  ever  shown  more  fully  and  completely  her  great 
faith  in  these  principles,  and  when  has  she  ever  more 
completely  revealed  her  steadfastness,  with  an  unanim- 
ity so  complete  as  to  be  almost  absolute  ?  Our  great 
company  of  men  and  women,  who  honor  and  love 
these  two  flags  that  hang  over  us,  have  come  to  give, 
each  of  his  or  her  power  or  kind,  to  this  sacrifice  and 
to  this  effort.  The  great  names  of  long  ago !  Could 
they  come  back  to  earth  and  witness  what  has  hap- 
pened here  this  last  six  months,  they  would  clap  their 
hands  together  for  joy  and  rejoice  that  they  had  laid  a 
foundation  on  which  so  superb  a  superstructure  could 
be  built. 

I  am  to-day  sending  a  greeting,  personal  in  char- 
acter, to  every  member  of  Columbia  University  who 


STEADFAST  IN  THE  FAITH  225 

has  gone  into  the  military  or  naval  or  civil  service  of 
the  United  States,  wherever  he  may  be,  in  the  hope 
that  this  greeting  will  reach  him  even  when  far  from 
home  and  friends,  on  or  about  Christmas  day.  More 
than  two  thousand  of  these  personal  greetings  are 
going  out  this  morning.  Nearly  seven  hundred  of 
them  are  going  to  men  and  women  already  on  the  soil 
of  France.  We  want  each  one  of  them  to  feel  that, 
as  Christmas  comes  and  their  hearts  open  toward 
thoughts  of  home  and  family  and  friends,  Alma  Mater 
is  neither  careless  nor  forgetful  of  them.  Let  me  close 
what  I  have  to  say  this  morning  by  reading  to  you 
the  greeting  which,  on  behalf  of  you  all,  I  am  sending 
to  each  of  them. 


At  this  Christmas  season  when  the  good  cheer  and  good-will 
that  should  mark  it  are  so  sadly  absent  from  the  lives  and  hearts 
of  millions  of  human  beings,  Alma  Mater  has  a  special  word  of 
greeting  and  encouragement  for  those  of  her  brave  and  stalwart 
sons  who  have  given  themselves  to  the  service  of  the  nation,  even 
though  their  lives  be  the  sacrifice.  No  contest  in  which  you 
could  possibly  be  engaged  can  equal  this  one  in  moral  significance. 
Everything  which  distinguishes  right  from  wrong  in  public  con- 
duct, everything  which  marks  off  principle  from  expediency  in 
national  life,  everything  which  draws  a  line  between  liberty  and 
despotism,  everything  which  removes  human  opportunity  from 
the  grasping  hand  of  cruel  privilege,  waits  for  its  safety,  and  per- 
haps for  its  very  existence,  upon  your  success  and  that  of  the  noble 
men  of  allied  nations  who  are  fighting  by  your  side  on  land  and  sea. 

Keep  a  stout  heart,  no  matter  how  long  the  waiting,  how  severe 
the  trials,  or  how  near  by  the  danger.  Life  will  not  be  worth  living 
for  any  of  us  unless  you  win  this  war.  Be  assured  that  you  are  to 


226  STEADFAST  IN  THE  FAITH 

win,  for  the  whole  moral  and  patriotic  force  of  America  is  behind 
you.  Columbia,  intensely  proud  of  her  share  in  this  struggle  and 
of  her  notable  contribution  of  men  and  service  to  its  successful 
conduct,  sends  you  this  word  of  good  cheer  and  encouragement. 
When  this  war  shall  have  been  righteously  won  there  will  be  peace 
on  earth  for  all  men  of  good-will. 


XXII 
THE  NEW  CALL  TO  SERVICE 


A  message  to  each  Columbia  man  in  service,  December  25,  1918 


THE  NEW  CALL  TO  SERVICE 

To  each  Columbia  man  in  service : 

One  year  ago,  when  the  burdens  of  war  were  new 
and  the  outlook  doubtful,  Alma  Mater  was  glad  to 
send  you  a  Christmas  message  of  encouragement  and 
good  cheer.  To-day,  as  Americans  all  over  the  world 
respond  to  the  President's  call  to  give  thanks  for  their 
blessings  and  their  mercies,  it  is  possible  to  send  over- 
seas a  message  of  grateful  appreciation,  of  exultation, 
and  of  satisfaction  that  the  great  task  which  was  before 
the  world  in  its  fight  against  Teuton  military  autocracy 
has  been  successfully  accomplished.  Free  men  and 
free  nations  have  shown  that,  given  a  little  time,  they 
could  so  organize  and  so  arm  themselves  as  to  beat 
back  the  forces  of  the  long-prepared  and  perfectly 
organized  military  autocracies.  This  means  that  free- 
dom is  safe  on  a  foundation  of  strength. 

We  are  now  to  prove  by  our  bearing  in  the  presence 
of  the  problems  of  the  future  that  freedom  is  also  safe 
on  the  foundations  of  reasonableness,  of  sympathy,  and 
of  justice.  Those  who  have  offered  their  lives  are 
now  to  be  called  upon  to  offer  their  minds  and  their 
souls.  The  sacrifices  of  war  are  over,  but  the  sacri- 
fices of  peace  are  only  now  to  begin.  These  are  sacri- 
fices that  will  put  behind  us  selfishness,  greed,  and  a 
willingness  to  exploit  the  souls  and  the  bodies  of  other 

men.    These  are  sacrifices  that  will  turn  our  minds 

329 


230  THE  NEW  CALL  TO  SERVICE 

away  from  bigness,  from  numbers,  and  from  accumu- 
lations, to  character,  to  quality,  and  to  spiritual  power. 
We  should  no  longer  think  of  large  nations  and  small 
nations,  but  only  of  free  nations,  joyfully  competing 
together  in  service  to  mankind  and  in  revelation  of 
new  and  unsuspected  powers  of  helpfulness  and  prog- 
ress. 

Patriotism  will  not  be  superseded  by  sentimentalism. 
Patriotism  will  have  both  a  deeper  and  a  finer  meaning 
than  it  has  ever  had  before.  Love  of  country  will  not 
grow  less,  but  greater,  because  of  the  demands  that 
each  country  has  made  upon  its  sons,  and  their  ready 
and  willing  response  to  its  call.  A  new  international 
order  will  not  supersede  nations;  quite  the  contrary. 
It  will  build  upon  them.  The  part  which  each  free 
nation  can  play  in  the  new  international  order  will 
depend  primarily  upon  its  own  self-consciousness,  its 
own  self-respect,  its  own  pride,  and  its  own  zeal  for 
service. 

You  have  aided,  and  powerfully  aided,  in  giving  to 
the  world  a  peace  that  is  to  be  based  upon  justice, 
and  that  will  last  so  long  as  justice  rules  the  hearts 
and  guides  the  conduct  of  men.  There  can  be  no 
lasting  peace  without  justice,  and  justice  is  the  only 
sure,  the  safe  and  quick  path  to  durable  peace. 


XXIII 
COLUMBIA  AND  THE  WAR 


Address  at  the  annual  meeting  of  the  Association  of  the  Alumni 
at  the  Columbia  University  Club,  New  York,  November  n, 
1918 


COLUMBIA  AND  THE  WAR 

Whoever  selected  this  evening  for  the  annual  meet- 
ing of  the  Association  of  the  Alumni  of  the  College 
was  either  in  the  confidence  of  the  German  Emperor 
or  in  that  of  Marshal  Foch.  He  either  knew  on  what 
day  the  former  gentleman  would  go  by  automobile 
into  a  neighboring  country,  or  he  knew  on  what  day 
the  latter  gentleman  would  lay  before  the  public  the 
most  minutely  specific  terms  of  unconditional  sur- 
render that  the  world  has  ever  been  permitted  to  read. 

We  find  ourselves  assembled  nominally  to  deal  with 
our  own  affairs;  to  discuss  matters  that  are  of  imme- 
diate interest;  and  then  we  find  the  whole  world  in  a 
heat  of  enthusiasm  over  one  of  the  very  greatest  and 
most  epoch-marking  events  in  history.  It  is  a  little 
difficult,  I  confess,  to  keep  anything  to-night  from 
running  into  the  current  of  thought  which  is  bearing 
on  its  bosom  the  hopes  of  the  world.  After  all,  our 
relation  to  what  has  been  going  on  and  to  what  is 
now  going  on  and  what  we  hope  will  go  on  is  thor- 
oughly typical  of  the  historic  Columbia.  Despite  all 
the  admirable  records  that  have  been  kept,  despite  the 
best  endeavors  of  every  recording  officer  to  keep  track 
of  the  happenings,  I  doubt  very  much  whether  the 
historian  ever  will  be  able  to  catch  anything  more  than 
a  fractional  part  of  our  university's  service  to  the 
nation  and  to  the  world  at  this  great  time  of  crisis. 

233 


234  COLUMBIA   AND  THE  WAR 

You  know  the  lengthening  line  of  gold  stars  upon  our 
service  flag,  and  each  one  of  those  gold  stars  represents 
one  of  the  bravest  and  the  best  of  the  men  who  have 
gone  out  from  our  company  in  the  last  decade  or  two. 
Then  there  are  stars  that  are  happily  not  gold,  which 
indicate  the  service  of  those  who  are  living  and  who 
are  now,  fortunately,  likely  to  escape  the  risk  of  death 
or  serious  injury  in  these  hostilities;  but  those  figures, 
taken  by  themselves,  the  service  flag  looked  at  by 
itself,  can  give  you  no  sort  of  appreciation  of  the  living, 
intimate  contact  that  our  men  have  had  and  are  having 
with  every  part  and  parcel  of  the  conduct  of  this  great 
enterprise.  What  interests  me  most  about  it  is  that 
every  time  a  new  piece  of  news  comes,  it  indicates  that 
one  of  our  Columbia  men  has  had  that  combination  of 
qualities  which  has  led  him  to  be  called  upon  to  do 
something  that  particularly  required  initiative,  cour- 
age, unselfish  devotion,  and  the  power  of  leadership; 
and  those  are  the  things  which,  for  one  hundred  and 
sixty  odd  years,  we  and  those  who  have  gone  before 
us  have  been  striving  to  develop  in  this  company  of 
ours,  and  those  are  the  things  which  in  very  large 
measure  we  have  developed. 

You  cannot  overestimate  the  service  rendered  by 
our  teaching  staff.  They  all  came  promptly  forward, 
without  criticism  or  demur,  to  meet  these  new  and 
strange  and  difficult  conditions  which  have  been 
brought  about  by  the  emergency  of  the  hour.  But 
there  is  even  a  brighter  side  to  it  than  that.  I  have 
had  some  of  our  colleagues  come  to  me  and  say:  "Mr. 


COLUMBIA  AND  THE  WAR  235 

President,  I  am  perfectly  delighted  that  I  have  been 
able  to  get  into  this  war  at  last.  I  did  not  see  how  I 
could  ever  do  it.  I  am  too  old.  I  did  not  see  how  I 
could  go  to  Washington  and  take  up  any  form  of 
clerical  work  or  administrative  service.  I  am  not 
quite  suited  for  that,  but  here  is  a  chance  for  me  to 
go  into  the  preparation  of  men  and  officers  to  take  a 
part  in  this  contest,  and  I  am  happier  than  I  have 
been  since  the  war  began."  That  comes,  gentlemen, 
from  men  who  are  no  longer  young,  that  comes  from 
men  whose  intellectual  interests  and  habits  are  remote 
from  the  kind  of  instruction  which  they  are  now  called 
upon  to  give;  but  it  comes  also  from  their  hearts, 
from  their  devotion,  from  their  patriotism,  and  from 
their  desire  to  see  to  it  that  there  shall  be  no  dissenting 
voice  when  the  roll  of  Columbia  is  called  by  Him  who 
takes  account  of  national  service.  I  can  tell  you 
anecdote  after  anecdote  to  illustrate  that  fact,  and  I 
ask  you  to  believe  that  our  teaching  force  to  a  man, 
from  the  oldest  to  the  youngest,  has  asked  for  nothing 
but  an  opportunity  to  lend  a  hand  in  this  enterprise. 

Just  now  we  find  ourselves  in  the  face  of  a  most 
threatening  situation.  If  I  were  an  artist  with  the 
brush,  I  could  ask  nothing  better  than  an  opportunity 
to  paint  two  pictures  and  to  set  them  in  contrast  one 
with  the  other.  I  should  like  to  paint  a  picture  called 
Militarism:  the  Beginning,  and  I  should  like  to  show 
the  German  forces,  armed,  insolent,  confident,  riding 
into  Belgium  on  August  4,  1914.  I  should  like  to 
show  them  trampling  old  men  and  women  and  children 


236  COLUMBIA  AND  THE  WAR 

under  foot.  I  should  like  to  show  them  committing 
unspeakable  outrages,  beating  down  great  temples  and 
libraries  and  universities  and  churches  and  public 
buildings.  I  should  like  to  show  the  harried  city  of 
Louvain  in  minutest  detail.  Then,  over  and  against 
that,  I  should  like  to  paint  a  picture  called  Militarism : 
the  End.  And  I  should  like  to  show  His  Excellency 
Herr  Erzberger,  with  his  accompanying  generals  and 
admirals,  blindfolded,  riding  in  an  automobile  with  a 
white  flag  to  the  headquarters  of  Marshal  Foch.  I 
should  like  everybody  in  this  broad  land  and  every- 
body in  every  high  school  and  college  to  look  on  those 
two  pictures,  and  then  have  some  intelligent  teacher 
draw  the  lesson  and  tell  what  it  means.  He  could  tell 
us  of  this  great  towering  structure  of  Prussian  mili- 
tarism. He  could  describe  to  us  how  high  it  had  been 
builded  and  how  wide  its  influence  reached,  and  how 
tremendous  were  its  ambitions  and  its  lusts.  Then  he 
could  tell  us  how  it  threw  itself,  all  panoplied  and 
armed,  against  an  unthinking  and  an  unprotected 
world.  Then  he  could  tell  us  the  story  of  those  last 
four  years  and  three  months,  ending  with  that  picture, 
and  show  to  our  young  men  the  humiliation,  the 
shame,  and  the  disaster  to  one  hundred  and  twenty 
millions  of  German-speaking  people  that  the  architects 
of  that  great  structure  have  brought  down  upon  them. 
It  has  cost  the  lives  of  at  least  ten  million  human 
beings  to  bring  that  structure  down,  and  every  one  of 
those  ten  million  human  beings,  however  humble  or 
however  great,  ought  to  be  remembered  forever  as  a 


COLUMBIA  AND  THE  WAR  237 

hero,  because  each  one  of  that  great  company  was  part 
of  the  price  that  the  world  had  to  pay  to  get  rid  of 
this  thing  forever.  And,  gentlemen,  it  is  gone !  Be- 
lieve me,  there  is  no  power  on  earth  that  can  revivify 
it  or  rebuild  it. 

To-night  we  are  looking  out  toward  a  new  world. 
It  is  my  sober  opinion  that  the  next  sixty  days  may 
prove  to  be  the  most  critical  sixty  days  in  modern 
history.  We  have  now  torn  down  this  accursed  thing, 
and  the  process  of  upbuilding  is  going  to  begin;  and 
the  question  before  every  thoughtful  man  in  this  world 
is:  Shall  that  upbuilding  be  on  the  lines  of  human 
experience,  on  the  lines  of  human  order,  on  the  lines 
of  human  liberty,  and  on  the  lines  of  human  justice, 
or  shall  it  be  an  attempt  to  install,  instead  of  the 
kaiser,  the  inverted  autocracy  of  a  mob  ?  That, 
gentlemen,  is  the  question  which  the  next  sixty  days 
may  decide.  We  saw  what  happened  to  the  Slavic 
people  when  the  Romanoffs  fell  and  the  bonds  of  a 
common  loyalty  and  a  common  religious  faith  were 
broken  and  new  and  greedy  tyrants  were  set  loose  to 
feed  upon  them.  In  this  case  we  are  dealing  with  a 
different  people.  We  are  dealing  with  the  long-disci- 
plined and  the  long-enslaved  Teuton,  and  we  are 
dealing  with  him  at  a  moment  of  highest  emotionalism. 
The  relief  which  the  liberal-minded  Teuton  might 
have  hoped  for  some  day  in  an  inconceivably  distant 
future  has  suddenly  dropped  upon  him  out  of  an  open 
sky;  and  that  political  and  social  collapse  which  the 
disorderly  element  in  society,  the  preying  element,  is 


238  COLUMBIA   AND  THE  WAR 

always  waiting  for,  has  come  without  an  instant's 
warning.  The  German  people  must  work  out  their 
own  salvation.  Their  autocratic  government  was  un- 
able to  stand  the  strain  of  defeat,  or  to  hold  the  support 
of  people  and  army  in  the  moment  of  disaster.  The 
German  people  are,  as  Bismarck  told  them  over  and 
over  again,  children  in  politics.  Whatever  their  ac- 
complishments may  have  been  in  other  directions, 
they  are  children  in  politics,  and  they  are  not  ready 
to  be  called  upon  with  startling  suddenness  to  fill  this 
great  gap  in  their  constituted  government.  Whether 
they  can  do  it  or  not,  whether  they  will  succumb  even 
for  a  time  to  such  a  series  of  forces  of  destruction  as 
has  ruled  and  is  ruling  in  Russia,  or  whether  they  will 
rather  have  some  such  experience  as  that  of  the  Paris 
Commune  of  1871  after  the  disaster  of  Sedan,  remains 
to  be  seen.  But,  gentlemen,  the  victors  in  this  war, 
having  been  the  cause  of  the  pulling  down  of  govern- 
ment, have  a  duty  toward  the  building  up  of  govern- 
ment. We  cannot  let  these  great  peoples  float  about 
on  the  ocean  of  to-day  as  derelicts.  We  owe  such 
assistance,  such  guidance,  such  policing,  such  protec- 
tion as  will  give  these  wretched  people  a  chance  to 
get  on  their  feet  with  a  free  government  of  their  own. 
It  is  not  to  our  interest  to  have  them  given  over  to 
chaos,  it  is  not  the  world's  interest  to  have  them  given 
over  to  chaos.  That  means  more  war,  desperate  war, 
bloody  war,  war  not  only  of  nations,  but  of  classes  and 
groups.  We  owe  the  world  constructive  leadership  in 
building  the  governments  that  are  to  take  the  places  of 


COLUMBIA   AND  THE  WAR  239 

those  that  have  been  overturned.  That  means,  gentle- 
men, that  we  should  not  delay  one  hour  to  make  of 
ourselves  and  our  Allies  the  beginning  of  a  League  of 
Nations  to  enforce  justice  and  to  protect  international 
order.  When  those  in  big  places  say  that  this  league 
cannot  be  formed  until  they  meet  at  the  peace  table, 
they  are  talking  what  seems  to  me  to  be  little  short  of 
madness.  Who  are  coming  to  this  peace  table  ?  Who 
is  coming  to  represent  Russia  ?  Who  is  coming  now 
to  represent  Germany  ?  Who  is  coming  to  represent 
Bavaria,  Baden,  and  the  rest  ?  There  is  a  perfectly 
plain  path  for  the  victorious  nations.  They  have  been 
banded  together  in  this  great  league.  They  have  put 
their  armies  under  one  command  and  their  navies 
under  one  command;  they  have  pooled  their  financial 
resources,  their  food,  their  munitions,  their  economic 
resources.  It  is  now  a  simple  matter  for  them  to  con- 
stitute themselves  into  a  League  of  Nations,  not  with 
an  elaborate  constitution,  but  with  a  few  simply 
declared  purposes  for  which  they  have  been  fighting. 
They  can  then  say  to  the  neutral  nations — to  Holland, 
to  Denmark,  to  Sweden,  to  Norway,  to  Spain:  "We 
shall  be  glad  to  take  you  into  our  league."  Then  get 
these  new  peoples  who  are  trying  to  organize  them- 
selves, and  whose  political  existence  and  belligerent 
rights  have  been  recognized,  the  Czecho-Slovaks,  the 
Jugo-Slavs,  the  Poles,  and  say  to  them:  "Give  us  your 
programme,  show  us  your  plan;  point  out  to  us  what 
territory  seems  to  belong  to  your  people  because  it  is 
occupied  by  them  or  has  historic  and  traditional  rela- 


240  COLUMBIA  AND  THE  WAR 

tions  to  them.  Let  us  examine  its  economic  aspects, 
its  elements  of  economic  independence.  Let  us  see 
what  can  be  done  about  your  government.  If  you 
believe  in  our  purposes,  hold  your  Constituent  Assem- 
bly, arrive  at  your  own  form  of  government,  adopt 
your  own  constitution.  When  those  questions  are 
settled  in  the  spirit  of  justice  and  sympathy  and  order, 
we  will  admit  you  too  to  the  League  of  Nations  as 
independent  members  of  the  brotherhood  of  states." 
After  that  we  can  say  to  the  Teutonic  peoples:  "As 
an  organized  world,  we  are  now  ready  to  take  up  your 
question  with  you.  You  sang  hymns  of  hate.  We 
do  not  propose  to  do  that.  You  attacked  the  world. 
We  have  thrashed  you  and  shown  you  that  you  could 
not  dominate  us.  Now,  then,  let  us  see  what  are  the 
elements  among  you  for  a  free  and  orderly  and  liberty- 
loving  and  responsible  state;  and,  when  you  have 
shown  us  that,  whether  it  takes  five  years  or  fifty, 
when  you  have  washed  off  your  hands  the  blood  of 
Belgium  and  Serbia  and  France;  the  blood  of  the 
widows  and  orphans  and  hospital-ships;  and  the  blood 
of  the  Lusitania  and  the  Sussex  and  the  rest;  when 
you  have  cleansed  your  hands  and  your  souls;  and 
when  you  have  done  those  things  which  free  and  self- 
respecting  people  must  do,  then  we  will  take  up  your 
application  for  membership  in  the  League  of  Nations, 
but  not  until  then." 

It  all  depends,  gentlemen,  upon  whether  we  propose 
to  have  an  orderly  world  to  go  forward  in  progress 
and  peace  and  happiness  along  the  lines  for  which  this 


COLUMBIA  AND  THE  WAR  241 

war  has  been  fought,  or  whether  we  propose  to  senti- 
mentalize about  it  and  to  trade  away  the  great  advan- 
tages that  have  been  won  for  the  race  and  not  for  any 
special  nation,  and  so  face  the  prospect  of  our  grand- 
children having  to  do  it  all  over  again. 

That  is  the  question,  gentlemen,  of  to-morrow.  Are 
we  ready  ?  Have  we  the  courage,  have  we  the  devo- 
tion, have  we  the  leadership,  to  organize  this  world  for 
order,  for  peace,  and  for  progress,  or  must  we,  even  in 
the  slightest  degree,  risk  a  repetition  of  the  horrors  of 
these  past  years  ?  I  trust,  as  the  world  and  its  na- 
tions approach  that  problem,  that  everywhere,  in  the 
army  of  those  who  study,  in  the  army  of  those  who 
teach,  in  the  army  of  those  who  lead,  in  the  army  of 
those  who  give  direction,  in  the  army  of  those  who 
accomplish,  everywhere  there  will  be  found  the  same 
type  of  Columbia  man  who  has  been  carrying  the  flag 
through  the  dangers  of  war  on  land  and  sea. 


XXIV 
THE  CONQUESTS  OF  WAR  AND  OF  PEACE 


Address  at  the  Victory  Celebration  of  the  Students'  Army  Train- 
ing Corps,  South  Court,  Columbia  University,  November  12, 
1918 


THE  CONQUESTS  OF  WAR  AND  OF  PEACE 

Soldiers  and  Sailors  of  the  United  States: 

We  are  met  to  celebrate  and  to  take  note  of  one  of 
the  great  turning-points  in  the  progress  of  the  human 
race.  It  may,  perhaps,  be  doubted  whether  at  any 
time  more  momentous  and  far-reaching  consequences 
have  hung  upon  a  great  decision.  The  decision,  which 
was  military  in  form,  is  much  more  than  military  in 
fact.  It  does  not  mean  merely  that  one  great  group  of 
armies  has  conquered  another.  It  does  not  mean 
simply  that  one  great  group  of  people  has  subdued  an- 
other. It  means  that  one  great  group  of  ideals  of 
human  life  and  conduct  have  conquered  another,  a 
lower  and  much  more  material  group,  I  believe,  for- 
ever. The  ideals  that  have  conquered  on  the  field  of 
battle,  that  have  inspired  the  peoples  and  guided  the 
armies  of  the  nations  of  free  men,  are  the  ideals  which 
long  ago  took  possession  of  Great  Britain,  of  France, 
and  of  the  United  States,  and  to  the  progress  and  ap- 
plication of  which  we  owe  all  that  we  are  and  all  that 
we  hope  to  be. 

You  had  been  chosen  by  the  people  of  the  United 
States  to  participate  in  this  great  contest,  and  you  had 
been  put  in  training  with  a  view  to  becoming  officers 
and  leaders  of  men  in  this  stupendous  contest.  But  it 
so  happened  that,  before  your  training  was  complete, 

245 


246  THE  CONQUESTS  OF  WAR 

before  you  could  reach  the  battle-field,  the  great  fabric 
that  military  autocracy  had  been  so  long  in  building 
has  come  tumbling  to  the  ground,  its  foundations 
undermined  and  taken  away  forever.  But,  soldiers 
and  sailors,  just  because  this  contest  was  military  in 
form  and  a  contest  of  ideas  in  fact,  just  because  of  that, 
your  training  has  only  just  begun.  The  nation's  need 
of  your  service  has  only  been  hinted  at,  and  your 
opportunity  to  serve  America,  her  Allies,  and  the  free 
world  will  be  far  greater  than  we  have  ever  known  or 
expected. 

See  into  what  a  new  world  you  are  entering  as 
soldiers  and  sailors  in  training !  You  are  entering 
into  a  world  great  portions  of  which  must  be  policed, 
great  areas  of  which  must  be  held  under  strict  military 
discipline  and  control,  in  order  that  the  forces  of  dis- 
order, the  forces  of  rapine,  the  forces  of  destruction, 
the  forces  of  organized  selfishness  and  greed  may  not 
prevent  these  peoples  from  whom  we  have  stricken  the 
shackles  of  autocracy  from  founding  their  own  free, 
liberal,  and  advancing  governments. 

We  know  what  has  happened  during  the  past  twelve 
months  to  the  people  and  the  country  that  once  were 
Russians  and  Russia.  We  see  signs  of  disorder  and 
dismemberment  in  the  great  empires  of  Austria- 
Hungary  and  of  Germany,  and  now  we  are  to  enter 
upon  the  task  of  reconstruction.  We  have  had  to  beat 
down,  in  order  that  we  might  prepare  the  way  to 
build  up.  Now  each  one  of  you,  as  an  American 
soldier  or  sailor  and  as  an  American  citizen,  is  called 


AND  OF  PEACE  247 

upon  to  subject  himself  to  the  stern  discipline  of 
preparation  for  reconstruction  and  for  peace. 

Your  answer  to  that  plea  will  be  a  test  of  your 
characters.  The  emotional  interest,  the  great  excite- 
ment, the  tragic  experiences,  the  tremendous  risks  and 
losses  of  war  are  now  withdrawn.  Therefore,  without 
that  great  emotional  assistance,  you  are  left  face 
to  face  with  opportunity,  with  duty,  with  need  for 
service,  and  your  characters  will  be  tested  by  your 
action,  as  your  courage  would  have  been  tested  had 
you  gone  overseas  to  take  your  place  on  the  line  of 
fire. 

America  has  never  so  greatly  needed  as  now  youth 
of  discipline,  of  self-respect,  of  clear  understanding  of 
issues  and  problems,  of  power  for  productive  service 
and  work.  All  those  things  are  coming  to  you  in  your 
daily  life,  in  your  daily  drill,  in  your  daily  exercise, 
and  in  your  daily  study.  Everything  that  you  have 
done  will  be  of  immediate  and  direct  use  and  applica- 
tion in  dealing  with  the  problems  of  to-morrow,  when 
you  will  have  to  steel  yourselves  to  deal  with  them  by 
force  of  will  and  without  the  driving  power  of  a  strong 
emotion  which  the  experiences  of  war  naturally  fur- 
nish. 

The  world  is  going  to  have  an  experience  that  it  has 
never  had  before.  It  is  going  into  a  year  of  life  with- 
out a  spring.  The  millions  of  youths  who  represented 
the  spring  are  gone.  Our  own  service  flag  is  covered 
with  gold  stars,  each  one  of  which  has  wrung  our 
hearts  as  we  put  it  there.  We  are  now  about  to  make 


248  TEE  CONQUESTS  OF  WAR 

a  new  type  of  service  flag  and  to  look  to  you  men  who 
are  going  to  take  the  places  in  the  public  life,  in  the 
business  affairs,  in  the  many  undertakings  of  America, 
of  those  whom  the  holocaust  of  war  destroyed,  to  you 
and  your  contemporaries,  the  youth  of  your  age  all 
over  this  land,  to  come  and  take  the  leadership  in 
solving  the  problems  of  to-morrow.  The  old  men,  the 
tired  men,  may  counsel,  but  it  is  too  late  to  ask  them 
to  take  up  this  stupendous  burden.  The  world  of 
to-morrow  belongs  to  the  young.  The  world  of  to- 
morrow belongs  to  you.  The  world  of  to-morrow  be- 
longs to  those  like  you  in  the  schools  and  colleges  all 
over  this  land,  and  in  France  and  Britain  and  Italy  and 
the  rest,  where  they  are  all  inspired  by  the  ideas  that 
have  given  you  your  place  in  this  university  and  your 
place  in  this  war. 

What  a  prospect,  gentlemen,  what  a  prospect ! 
What  an  opportunity  and  what  a  responsibility ! 
Take  every  ounce  of  training  that  you  can  get.  De- 
vote yourselves  day  and  night  to  the  work  of  this 
camp  and  this  university  for  so  many  months  or  years 
as  may  be  needed  to  bring  you  to  a  point  where  you 
are  consciously  ready  to  go  out  and  take  up  your 
share  of  the  responsibility  which  is  yours. 

Then  remember  that  you  are  going  into  a  world 
where  men  must  think,  where  men  must  have  sym- 
pathy, where  men  must  have  patience,  where  men 
must  know  how  to  build.  We  cannot  leave  all  that 
has  been  destroyed  to  lie  across  the  path  of  history  as 
a  desert  waste.  We  must  now  make  it  to  blossom 


AND  OF  PEACE  249 

like  the  rose  with  peoples,  with  industries,  with  happy 
homes,  with  sound  ideas;  and  it  may  be,  God  willing, 
that  when  years  have  passed,  it  will  have  been  your 
happy  lot  to  find  that  you  were  prepared  effectively 
to  bind  up  the  wounds  of  a  broken  world,  and,  under 
the  guidance  of  your  beloved  country  and  your  coun- 
try's flag,  to  play  a  most  leading  part  in  putting  this 
new  world  upon  a  foundation  that  cannot  be  shaken. 

I  congratulate  you  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart,  not 
only  upon  what  this  day  so  tremendously  marks,  but 
upon  that  to-morrow  which  beckons  you  to  conquer  it 
as  well. 


XXV 
CLEAR  THINKING 


Address  on  Commencement  Day,  June  n,  1902 


CLEAR  THINKING 

Over  eight  hundred  young  men  and  young  women 
go  out  to-day  from  this  university.  Most  of  you 
will  never  return  as  students.  For  nearly  all  the 
period  of  formal  preparation  is  now  closed,  and  you 
are  to  prove  your  quality  as  educated  men  and  women 
by  the  use  you  make  of  your  training  here.  That 
training  has  been  singularly  diverse,  and  its  diversity 
fittingly  represents  the  broad  range  of  the  intellectual 
interests  of  to-day.  Some  of  you  have  given  four  glad 
years  to  the  liberal  arts  and  sciences  in  Columbia 
College  or  in  Barnard  College,  and  are  the  richer  in 
nature  and  in  opportunity  for  contact  with  those 
fertile  subjects  of  study  which  have  nurtured  genera- 
tion after  generation  of  our  forefathers.  Others  have 
grown  into  a  comprehension  of  the  fundamental  prin- 
ciples which  underlie  the  several  learned  professions — 
law,  medicine,  teaching,  engineering,  architecture,  and 
the  rest — and  have  become  skilled  in  following  those 
principles  to  their  various  and  several  practical  applica- 
tions. Still  others,  with  a  scholar's  career  in  view,  led 
on  by  that  scientific  curiosity  that  is  but  another  form 
of  the  childlike  wonder  which  gave  rise  to  all  science, 
have  gone  far  along  the  road  toward  the  boundary  of 
present  knowledge  in  some  chosen  field,  and  have  even, 
perhaps,  experienced  the  thrill  which  accompanies  the 
feeling  that  to  go  farther  is  to  venture  upon  as  yet 

253 


254  CLEAR  THINKING 

untrodden  ground.  You  have  all,  I  trust,  caught  the 
earnest,  helpful,  democratic  spirit  of  Columbia  Univer- 
sity, and  have  thereby  grown  in  personal  character 
and  in  reverence  for  the  truth  because  of  your  life 
here. 

Various  as  your  studies  have  been  and  varied  as 
your  accomplishments  are,  there  is  one  art  in  which 
you  should  all  have  gained  practice,  even  though  its 
complete  mastery  is  still  distant  or,  perhaps,  reserved 
for  the  few.  I  mean  the  art  of  clear  thinking. 

To  think  clearly  and  straight  is  not  easy,  but  by 
few  standards  can  sound  mental  training  be  so  well 
measured  as  by  this.  Clear  thinking  implies  trained 
powers  of  observation,  analysis  and  inference,  and  a 
balance  between  intellect  and  emotion  which  is  not 
often  inborn.  Clear  thinking  can  be  gained  only  by 
practice.  Logic  is  its  form,  scientific  method  is  its 
instrument,  sanity  and  mental  poise  are  its  presup- 
positions. That  tranquillity  of  mind  which  Seneca  has 
described  in  a  noteworthy  essay  is  an  important  aid. 
All  these  things  your  education  should  have  brought 
you  in  some  measure,  whether  that  education  has  been 
general  or  special.  Without  these,  your  learning  and 
your  skill,  however  great,  will  be  wasted.  Clear 
thinking  implies,  too,  a  detachment  which  holds 
passion  and  temper  at  arm's  length  while  opinion  is 
forming,  although  warmth  of  feeling  has  its  proper 
place  in  the  subsequent  expression  of  conviction. 
Passion  for  the  truth  is  quite  different  from  passion 
at  the  truth. 


CLEAR  THINKING  255 

Fortunately,  the  pathways  to  the  art  of  clear  think- 
ing are  many,  and  each  student  in  this  university  finds 
one  opening  before  him.  The  patient  dissection  of  a 
mathematical  problem,  of  a  grammatical  construction, 
of  a  bit  of  matter  living  or  dead;  the  careful  analysis 
of  a  judicial  opinion,  the  diagnosis  of  disease,  the 
observation  of  human  minds — all  these  lead  to  the 
exercise  of  the  powers  upon  which  the  art  of  clear 
thinking  depends.  If  these  pathways  be  trodden  for 
four  years  or  even  for  a  shorter  time,  the  student  has 
gained  thereby  a  precious  intellectual  possession  which 
outweighs  any  amount  of  variety  of  mere  information. 

The  skilful  authors  of  the  Port  Royal  Logic,  the 
precepts  of  which  have  had  much  to  do  with  the 
exquisite  order,  precision,  and  clearness  which  charac- 
terize the  scientific  and  literary  expositions  of  the 
writers  of  modern  France,  pointed  out  no  fewer  than 
nine  different  ways  of  reasoning  ill.  To  be  avoided, 
these  ways  of  reasoning  ill  must  be  known,  in  order 
that  they  may  be  recognized  in  one's  own  mental  proc- 
esses. For  these  and  other  practical  matters  which 
affect  the  art  of  clear  thinking,  and  its  opposite,  I 
commend  to  you  the  admirable  tract  on  The  Conduct 
of  the  Understanding  by  the  philosopher  Locke.  For 
the  student  who  cares  for  clear  thinking — and  what 
student  does  not  ? — and  who  wishes  to  avoid  slovenli- 
ness and  inaccuracy  of  mind,  it  is  perhaps  the  most 
useful  book  in  the  English  language.  I  wish  that  each 
of  you  might  not  only  read  it,  but  own  it  and  open  it 
often.  As  a  guide  to  the  understanding  of  one's  own 


256  CLEAR  THINKING 

mental  processes  and  states  and  to  a  knowledge  of  the 
obstacles  and  aids  to  clear  thinking,  this  little  book 
of  a  hundred  pages  seems  to  me  to  have  no  equal. 
Hallam  said  of  it  years  ago  that  it  gives  the  reader 
"a  sober  and  serious,  not  flippant  or  self-conceited, 
independency  of  thinking." 

Be  assured,  too,  that  clear  thinking  lies  at  the  basis 
of  the  art  of  expression.  He  who  cannot  explain  does 
not  wholly  understand.  He  who  fully  understands 
has  taken  the  first  long  step  toward  attaining  the 
power  to  make  known.  Columbia  would  gladly  make 
the  art  of  clear  thinking  and  the  power  of  lucid  and 
elegant  expression  the  mark  of  her  sons  and  daughters. 
That  you  have  gained  something,  much,  in  each  of 
these  directions,  we  hope  and  we  believe.  Do  not 
relax  your  vigilance  in  after  years,  but  help  these  good 
habits  to  become  positively  irresistible  through  con- 
stant and  adequate  exercise. 

You  take  with  you,  each  and  all,  the  sincerest  good- 
will of  the  university  of  which  you  have  been  student- 
members  and  to  which  you  will  ever  belong.  May 
you  be  equal  in  all  ways  to  the  high  demands  of  a  life 
which  is,  in  the  words  of  Burke,  a  life  of  manly,  moral, 
regulated  liberty! 


XXVI 
THE  GOSPEL  OF  HOPE 


Address  on  Commencement  Day,  June  10,  1903 


THE  GOSPEL  OF  HOPE 

Columbia  University  parts  to-day  with  another 
goodly  company  of  her  sons  and  daughters.  Regret 
and  expectancy  are,  I  doubt  not,  the  feelings  upper- 
most in  your  minds;  hope  and  confidence  are  those 
which  the  university  cherishes  for  you.  Your  pres- 
ence here  is  a  mark  that  you  have  done  what  has  been 
asked  of  you  academically,  and  the  future  lies  with 
you  alone. 

Let  me  lay  stress  for  a  moment  or  two  upon  the 
point  of  view  from  which  your  work  in  life  is  to  be 
approached.  There  is,  I  feel  sure,  neither  happiness 
nor  usefulness  to  be  found  in  cultivating  indifference, 
cynicism,  or  pessimism.  There  are  those  who  feel 
that  the  educated  youth  of  our  land  are  apt  to  hold 
themselves  aloof  from  popular  interests  and  move- 
ments, and  to  view  from  one  side,  or  from  above,  the 
active  life  of  our  democracy.  This  impression  is  not, 
I  think,  a  just  one;  at  all  events,  it  is  certainly  less 
well  founded  now  than  ever  before;  but  such  founda- 
tion as  it  has  should  be  rudely  taken  from  it  by  your 
efforts  and  by  your  careers.  If  education  and  training 
are  to  unfit  men,  mentally,  for  sympathetic  participa- 
tion in  the  every-day  life  of  the  nation,  then  the  less  of 
education  and  training  that  we  have,  the  better.  In 
that  case  we  are  starving  the  soul  to  feed  the  mind. 

259 


260  THE  GOSPEL  OF  HOPE 

But  the  education  of  to-day  is  not  of  that  sort.  It  is 
insistent  in  its  demands  for  practical  application,  for 
service,  for  human  sympathy.  It  implies  faith  in  God 
and  in  man,  and  joyous  participation  in  human  efforts. 

There  is  no  true  life-gospel  but  the  gospel  of  hope, 
the  gospel  of  belief;  not  that  all  is  as  right  as  it  can  be, 
but  that  all  is  righteous  and  can  be  made  more  right- 
eous still.  Carl  Hilty,  in  his  charming  essay  on  Happi- 
ness, has  truly  said  that  "Pessimism  as  a  permanent 
habit  of  mind  is,  for  the  most  part,  only  a  mantle  of 
philosophy  through  which,  when  it  is  thrown  back, 
there  looks  out  the  face  of  vanity; — a  vanity  which  is 
never  satisfied  and  which  withholds  one  forever  from 
a  contented  mind."  The  vain,  the  self-centred  man 
is  at  bottom  a  cynic,  for  even  his  own  self-satisfaction 
is  not  perfect. 

This  university  would  put  upon  its  graduates  the 
stamp  of  earnestness,  not  paltering;  of  enthusiasm, 
not  indifference;  of  hope  and  cheerfulness,  not  despair 
and  gloom;  of  active  interest  in  our  fellow  men,  and 
not  supercilious  contempt  for  them  and  their  affairs. 
Do  not  fear  to  be  in  earnest,  and  pay  no  heed  to  the 
whisper  that  it  is  "bad  form"  to  be  enthusiastic.  Be 
human;  be  real. 

Nearly  forty  years  ago  Thomas  Carlyle  made  a 
famous  address  to  the  students  of  Edinburgh  as  Lord 
Rector  of  the  university.  It  abounded  in  wisdom  and 
common  sense,  and  its  advice  to  the  Edinburgh  stu- 
dents is  comprised  in  the  one  sentence:  Be  diligent. 
But  Carlyle  went  on  to  tell  what  he  meant  by  dili- 


THE  GOSPEL  OF  HOPE  261 

gence.  It  included,  he  said,  all  virtues  that  a  student 
can  have,  all  those  qualities  of  conduct  that  lead  on  to 
the  acquirement  of  real  instruction  and  improvement. 
Most  of  all,  it  included  honesty,  intellectual  as  well  as 
moral  honesty.  "A  dishonest  man  cannot  do  any- 
thing real."  That  is  a  fine  sentence  and  a  true  one; 
it  may  be  paraphrased  by  saying  that  character  makes 
knowledge  worth  while. 

I  would  rather  have  this  great  company  of  students 
face  the  world  with  cheerfulness  and  hope  and  with 
complete  honesty  than  endowed  in  any  other  way. 

You  go  out  to-day  from  under  the  shadow  of  a  great 
tradition.  For  nearly  a  century  and  a  half  it  has  been 
slowly  forming.  Lives  without  number  have  been 
built  into  it.  The  years  have  crowned  it  with  power 
and  with  beauty.  It  is  a  branch  of  something  far 
older,  that  runs  back  till  it  loses  itself  in  the  beginnings 
of  things.  It  marks  the  rise  and  dominance  of  the 
human  spirit.  Here  you  have  come  under  its  influence; 
here  you  have  caught  something  of  its  meaning. 

May  you  each  in  his  own  way  be  a  bearer  of  the 
tradition  which  you  have  come  to  know.  May  you 
all  find  usefulness,  and  if  it  be  God's  will,  happiness 
also.  Mere  success,  as  the  world  judges  success  by 
outward  signs,  I  pass  by.  It  is  not  worth  having  save 
as  an  incident  to  usefulness. 


XXVII 
PERSONAL  RESPONSIBILITY 


Address  on  Commencement  Day,  June  8,  1904 


PERSONAL  RESPONSIBILITY 

It  is  an  anxious  moment  when  an  engine,  long  in 
building,  is  finally  to  be  put  to  its  practical  test.  Will 
it  work  ?  Was  its  plan  well  made  and  was  it  wisely 
executed  ?  The  steam  is  let  into  the  cylinder,  the 
piston-rod  moves,  and  the  wheels  begin  to  turn.  The 
machine  works,  and  the  labor  put  upon  it  is  worth 
while.  The  behavior  of  the  machine  in  practice  is  the 
supreme  test  of  the  wisdom  and  skilful  execution  of 
its  plan. 

What  is  true  of  an  engine  is  yet  more  true  of  men 
and  women.  The  university  scans  closely  the  faces  of 
those  who  pass  out  of  its  gates  from  year  to  year,  in 
order  that  it  may,  if  possible,  forecast  the  future.  Will 
these  men  and  women  work  in  practice  ?  Has  their 
training  been  wisely  planned  and  skilfully  executed  ? 
If  so,  the  university  has  done  its  part.  But  one  cru- 
cial question  remains.  Can  and  will  each  individual 
student  who  bears  the  university's  name,  worthily  use 
the  training  it  has  given  him  ?  This  is  the  question  of 
personal  responsibility,  and  it  cannot  be  shirked. 

It  is  not  at  all  hard  to  bring  home  the  feeling  of 
responsibility  in  the  abstract,  but  it  is  often  a  matter 
of  extreme  difficulty  to  enforce  it  in  the  concrete.  We 
are  always  ready  to  legislate  standards  for  others,  but 
not  so  quick  to  apply  them  to  ourselves.  I  hold  a  feel- 
ing of  high  responsibility  to  God  and  to  man  for  the 

265 


266  PERSONAL  RESPONSIBILITY 

use  of  one's  knowledge  and  training,  to  be  an  essential 
part  of  an  education  that  is  genuine.  Subtract  that 
feeling,  and  the  most  cunningly  contrived  intellect 
becomes  an  engine  without  a  governor.  With  it,  even 
an  imperfect  intellectual  machine  will  accomplish  use- 
ful results. 

The  college  and  university  graduates  of  to-day  need 
to  reflect  long  and  earnestly  upon  their  responsibility. 
The  parable  of  the  talents  applies  to  them.  They 
must  give  some  return  for  what  has  been  so  freely 
given  to  them.  Moreover,  they  must  feel  the  re- 
sponsibility for  giving  this  return,  and  must  act  upon  it. 

These  graduates  owe  to  themselves  and  to  their 
community  many  things.  One  is  intellectual  honesty. 
You  who  have  studied  logic  and  you  who  have  applied 
scientific  method  to  the  solution  of  innumerable  prob- 
lems know  the  relation  between  premise  and  con- 
clusion, and  you  know  that  the  truth-loving  and  truth- 
seeking  mind  will  not  permit  contradiction  between 
the  one  and  the  other.  It  is  your  bounden  duty  to 
exemplify  this  in  practical  life.  Fashion,  fear,  am- 
bition, avarice,  all  will  tempt  you  to  deny  your  honest 
beliefs.  If  you  yield,  your  education  here  is  in  so  far 
imperfect  or  you  thereby  renounce  your  responsibility 
for  the  use  to  which  you  put  that  education. 

It  might  be  said  of  responsibility,  as  Emerson  said 
of  truth,  that  you  cannot  have  both  it  and  repose. 
You  must  choose  between  them.  "He  in  whom  the 
love  of  repose  predominates  will  accept  the  first  creed, 
the  first  philosophy,  the  first  political  party  he  meets,— 


PERSONAL  RESPONSIBILITY  267 

most  likely  his  father's.  He  gets  rest,  commodity  and 
reputation;  but  he  shuts  the  door  of  truth."  So  also 
he  shuts  the  door  of  responsibility.  Whatever  his  be- 
belief,  in  action — or  rather  inaction — he  denies  respon- 
sibility. 

No  educated  man  can  afford  to  prefer  repose  to 
responsibility.  He  must  act  continually  and  coura- 
geously, and  with  all  the  light  that  his  education  has 
given  him.  Then  and  then  only  can  he  approach  an 
understanding  of  the  meaning  of  the  high  praise  that 
Matthew  Arnold  gave  to  Sophocles: 

Who  saw  life  steadily,  and  saw  it  whole. 

There  is  a  university  visible  and  a  university  in- 
visible. The  one  is  made  up  of  these  stately  build- 
ings, of  the  throng  of  teachers  and  students,  of  these 
recurring  ceremonials.  The  other  exists  in  the  spirit 
which  animates  the  whole  and  which,  overpassing 
these  near  bounds,  inspires  and  guides  the  thousands 
who  have  gone  out  from  us.  To-day  you  are  crossing 
the  line  beyond  which  lies  the  university  invisible. 
Over  there  you  are  none  the  less  in  and  of  Columbia 
than  you  have  been  while  here.  Henceforth  it  is 
yours  to  share  the  responsibility  for  that  school  of  the 
higher  learning  which  was  called  into  being  a  century 
and  a  half  ago,  not  only  to  promote  a  liberal  education 
but  to  make  that  education  "as  beneficial  as  may  be." 


XXVIII 
THINKING  FOR  ONE'S  SELF 


Address  on  Commencement  Day,  June  14,  1905 


THINKING  FOR  ONE'S   SELF 

Matthew  Arnold  is  responsible  for  a  significant  story 
of  the  poet  Shelley.  Mrs.  Shelley  was  choosing  a  school 
for  her  son  and  asked  the  advice  of  a  friend.  The 
reply  was:  "O!  Send  him  somewhere  where  they  will 
teach  him  to  think  for  himself";  to  which  Mrs.  Shelley 
answered:  "Teach  him  to  think  for  himself!  Teach 
him  rather  to  think  like  other  people."  Which  is  the 
easier,  and  which  the  more  important  ? 

The.  late  provost  of  Trinity  College,  Dublin,  Doctor 
George  Salmon,  learned  alike  in  mathematics  and 
theology,  found  no  difficulty  in  coming  to  a  prompt 
conclusion:  "The  labor  of  forming  opinions  for  them- 
selves," he  once  wrote,  "is  too  much  for  most  men  and 
for  almost  all  women.  They  look  out  for  some  author- 
ity from  whom  they  can  take  opinions  ready  made, 
and  people  value  their  opinions  by  a  different  rule 
from  that  according  to  which  they  value  their  other 
possessions.  Other  things  they  value  in  proportion  to 
the  trouble  it  has  cost  them  to  come  by  them;  but  the 
less  labor  of  their  own  they  have  bestowed  in  forming 
their  opinions,  the  greater  their  scorn  for  those  who  do 
not  covet  them,  the  greater  their  indignation  against 
those  who  try  to  deprive  them  of  them." 

These  quotations  put  strikingly  before  us  the  time- 
old  problem  of  the  behavior  of  the  individual  in  the 
presence  of  the  mass.  In  one  form  or  another  this 

271 


272  THINKING  FOR  ONE'S  SELF 

problem  has  perplexed  the  human  mind  for  nearly 
three  thousand  years.  The  ancient  moral  philoso- 
phers, the  schoolmen  of  the  Middle  Ages,  the  logicians, 
moralists,  and  scientists  of  to-day,  have-  all  struggled 
and  are  all  struggling  with  this  same  problem  in  one 
or  another  of  its  aspects. 

Reduced  to  its  lowest  terms  and  applied  to  the  con- 
crete interests  of  the  moment,  our  question  is  this: 
Shall  the  university  so  train  its  students  that  they 
think  for  themselves  or  that  they  think  like  other 
people  ? 

Let  us  choose  the  first  alternative.  The  university 
shall  so  train  its  students  that  they  think  for  them- 
selves. Confident  and  jaunty  the  happy  company  of 
students  go  out  into  the  work  of  the  world.  Each 
thinks  for  himself.  Here  and  there  is  one  who  is 
sternly  logical  and  who  will  not  be  denied  the  con- 
clusions that  follow  from  his  premises.  He  thinks  for 
himself  in  regard  to  some  questions  of  public  order, 
some  questions  of  property,  some  questions  of  re- 
sponsibility and  liability.  The  heavy  hand  of  the 
law  is  suddenly  laid  upon  his  shoulder  and  he  is  haled 
to  a  prison  or  to  an  asylum  for  lunatics.  His  protest 
that  he  is  an  educated  man,  thinking  for  himself,  is 
unsympathetically  jeered  at.  He  is  so  individual  that 
he  is  a  nuisance  and  a  danger,  and  the  community 
suppresses  him  at  once.  Apparently,  then,  our  choice 
was  a  wrong  one,  and  the  university  should  not  teach 
men  and  women  to  think  for  themselves. 

Let  us  turn  to  the  second  alternative.    The  univer- 


THINKING  FOR  ONE'S  SELF  273 

sity  should  so  train  its  students  that  they  think  like 
other  people.  Cast  in  one  mould,  they  step  across 
Alma  Mater's  portals,  outward  bound,  conventional- 
ized, and  ready  to  do  homage  to  what  Goethe  so  felici- 
tously describes  as 

Was  uns  alle  bandigt,  das  Gemeine. 

For  them  whatever  is,  is  right,  and  the  only  progress 
is  to  stand  still.  For  some  reason  or  other,  this  result 
fails  to  satisfy  as  an  ideal,  and  we  cannot  resist  the 
conclusion  that,  after  all,  it  is  not  enough  for  the 
university  to  train  its  students  to  think  like  other 
people. 

Idiosyncrasy  and  convention,  then,  are  alike  un- 
satisfactory, and  we  travel  back  to  the  wisdom  and 
human  insight  of  Aristotle  for  a  clew  to  the  escape 
from  our  dilemma.  "Excess  and  deficiency,"  he  said, 
"equally  destroy  the  health  and  strength,  while  what 
is  proportionate  preserves  and  augments  them." 

The  university  is  to  train  men  and  women — this 
means — in  part  to  think  for  themselves  and  in  part 
to  think  like  other  people.  They  must  think  like 
other  people  sufficiently  to  make  their  thinking  for 
themselves  worth  while.  They  must  have  a  fulcrum 
for  their  lever,  and  that  fulcrum  is  the  common  appre- 
hension and  comprehension  of  the  lessons  of  past 
human  experience,  particularly  as  that  experience 
crystallizes  into  the  institutions  of  civilization.  The 
world  and  human  society  cannot  now  be  built  over 
just  as  if  no  plan  had  been  prepared,  no  foundation 


274  THINKING  FOR  ONE'S  SELF 

laid,  no  work  already  done.  It  is  society  formed 
which  must  be  taken  as  the  basis  for  society  reformed. 
It  is  from  this  year  of  grace  and  not  from  the  creation 
that  he  who  is  to  think  for  himself  must  take  his 
departure.  The  university  must  in  so  far  train  its 
students  to  think  like  other  people;  this  much  assured, 
it  must  then  train  its  students  to  think  for  themselves. 

As  persons  you  are  raised  above  the  domain  of 
things  and  into  a  dominion  of  your  own.  Persons 
must  look  with  their  own  eyes,  judge  with  their  own 
minds,  act  with  their  own  wills.  To  stand  up  to  the 
full  measure  of  manhood  or  womanhood  is  task  enough 
for  any  one,  and  it  is  the  business  of  the  university  to 
train  you  for  that  task  by  teaching  you  first  to  think 
like  other  people  and  then  to  think  for  yourselves. 
Mrs.  Shelley's  mother  instinct  guided  her  aright  as  to 
where  to  lay  the  emphasis  in  the  education  of  the 
erratic  genius  who  was  her  son.  For  him  to  learn  to 
think  like  other  people  was  more  important  than  to 
learn  to  think  for  himself.  For  most  of  us  the  reverse 
is  true.  I  am  confident  that  the  university  has  in  one 
form  or  another  pressed  this  lesson  upon  you  all. 

For  the  older  members  of  the  university  I  extend  to 
these  younger  ones  hearty  congratulations  and  every 
good  wish  for  the  years  that  are  to  come.  'May  you 
always  look  back  upon  the  years  spent  here  as  the 
happiest  and  most  fruitful  of  your  useful  lives. 


XXIX 
THE  SPIRIT  OF  UNREST 


Address  on  Commencement  Day,  June  13,  1906 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  UNREST 

For  the  American  of  ambition  and  education  who 
would  use  his  powers  to  best  advantage  in  the  service 
of  his  country  and  of  humanity,  there  is  no  book  of 
instruction  equal  in  value  to  the  life  of  Abraham 
Lincoln.  That  life  tells  the  story  of  a  noble  soul  nur- 
tured from  humblest  beginnings  by  severe  self-disci- 
pline, by  contact  with  men,  by  constant  occupation 
with  large  human  interests  and  with  lofty  thoughts; 
a  soul  endowed  with  "a  patience  like  that  of  nature, 
which  in  its  vast  and  fruitful  activity  knows  neither 
haste  nor  rest."  Tested  and  tried  as  never  ruler  was 
before,  distraught  with  conflicting  counsel  and  urged 
hither  and  yon  by  every  powerful  influence,  Lincoln's 
nature  never  lost  its  poise  nor  his  judgment  its  clear- 
sighted sanity.  He  saved  a  nation  because  he  re- 
mained tranquil  amid  angry  seas. 

This  great  company  of  graduates  goes  out  from  the 
university  into  the  active  work  of  the  world  at  a  par- 
ticularly important  and  critical  time.  Unless  all  signs 
fail,  we  are  entering  upon  a  period  of  social  and  eco- 
nomic, perhaps  even  of  political,  reconstruction.  A 
spirit  of  unrest  is  abroad,  not  only  in  our  own  land, 
but  in  other  lands  as  well.  So  far  as  this  unrest  has 
an  intellectual  foundation,  it  appears  to  be  the  con- 
viction that  the  eighteenth-century  formulas  and 
axioms  upon  which  our  social  and  political  fabric  is  so 

277 


278  THE  SPIRIT  OF  UNREST 

largely  built  do  not  work  as  they  were  expected  to 
work.  So  far  as  this  unrest  has  an  economic  founda- 
tion, it  appears  to  be  dissatisfaction  with  actual  and 
possible  rewards  for  industry.  So  far  as  it  has  a  polit- 
ical foundation,  it  appears  to  be  a  perception  of  easily 
demonstrated  inequalities  of  power  and  influence  and 
of  an  equally  easily  demonstrated  inequality  of  benefits 
from  governmental  policies. 

That  this  unrest  has  been  and  is  being  used  by 
ambitious  men  for  their  own  selfish  ends  and  for  gain 
by  journalistic  builders  of  emotional  bonfires  is  cer- 
tainly true;  but  it  will  not  do  to  dismiss  this  spirit  of 
unrest  with  a  sneer  on  that  account. 

It  has  passed  far  beyond  the  bounds  of  the  dreamers 
and  visionaries,  the  violent-minded,  and  the  naturally 
destructive.  Men  accustomed  to  honest  reflection  and 
themselves  possessed  of  property,  always  the  sheet- 
anchor  of  conservatism,  have  come  under  its  influence. 
Policies  that  not  long  ago  were  dismissed  as  too  extreme 
for  serious  discussion  are  now  soberly  examined  with 
reference  to  their  immediate  practicability.  What  has 
brought  about  this  change  ? 

An  answer  is  not  far  to  seek.  An  increasing  number 
of  men  have  come  to  distrust  the  capacity  of  society  as 
now  organized  to  protect  itself  against  the  freebooters 
who  exist  in  it.  An  increasing  number  of  men  believe 
and  assert  that  law  and  justice  are  powerless  before 
greed  and  cunning,  and  they  are  the  more  ready  to 
listen  to  advocacy  of  any  measure  or  policy,  however 
novel  or  revolutionary,  that  promises  relief.  Their 


279 

imaginations,  too,  cannot  help  being  affected  by  the 
appalling  sight,  so  often  called  to  our  attention  of 
late,  of  that  moral  morgue  wherein  are  exposed  the 
shrivelled  souls  and  ruined  reputations  of  those  who 
have  lost  in  the  never-ending  struggle  between  selfish- 
ness and  service  that  goes  on  in  the  human  breast. 

Where  amid  all  this  shall  the  university  graduate 
throw  his  influence  ? 

The  first  duty  of  the  trained  and  educated  mind 
when  it  faces  conditions  such  as  these  and  must  take 
a  definite  and  responsible  attitude  toward  them  is  not 
to  lose  its  balance,  its  poise,  its  self-control.  It  is 
worth  while  to  look  back  at  the  majestic  figure  of 
Lincoln,  crowned  now  with  immortality's  laurel,  tran- 
quil amid  far  angrier  seas  than  ours. 

Not  much  is  to  be  gained  by  passionate  denunciation 
of  principles  and  men,  if  there  is  no  clear  perception  of 
where  the  difficulty  lies  and  of  what  it  is  that  is  to  be 
remedied.  A  first  step,  then,  is  an  analysis  of  the 
conditions  complained  of  and  their  genesis.  I  lay 
particular  emphasis  upon  their  genesis,  for  most  re- 
builders  of  society  are  singularly  neglectful  of  history. 
Their  lip-service  of  evolution  does  not  often  carry 
them  to  the  point  of  considering  our  present  institu- 
tions— social,  economic,  political — as  evolved,  and, 
therefore,  as  having  the  weight  of  years  and  human 
experience  behind  them. 

Looking  back  over  a  thousand  years  or  more,  it  is 
plain  that  civilized  man  has  travelled  far.  An  exami- 
nation of  his  progress  will  show,  I  think,  that  it  rests 


280  THE  SPIRIT  OF  UNREST 

mainly  upon  three  principles,  gradually  evolved  and 
erected  into  institutions:  Civil  and  industrial  liberty, 
private  property,  and  the  inviolability  of  contract. 
Upon  these  as  a  corner-stone  rests  what  we  know 
to-day  as  civilized  human  society.  That  our  society 
has  its  evils,  terrible  and  dangerous,  cannot  be  denied. 
That  greed  for  gain  holds  an  appalling  number  of  men 
in  its  grasp  and  that  the  moral  tone  of  large  business 
undertakings  is  painfully  low  are  only  too  evident. 
But  it  is  quite  too  rash  a  conclusion  to  infer  that  so- 
ciety must  be  destroyed  and  its  corner-stone  displaced 
before  those  evils  can  be  remedied.  It  may  be  true — 
and  I  think  it  is — that  the  difficulty  is  not  so  much 
with  the  tried  and  tested  principles  upon  which  society 
rests  as  with  the  honesty  and  intelligence  with  which 
those  principles  are  worked.  The  abounding  pros- 
perity of  our  country  with  its  untold  opportunities  for 
material  success,  the  loosening  of  the  hold  of  some  of 
the  old  religious  and  ethical  sanctions  of  conduct,  and 
the  weakening  of  parental  control  and  discipline,  have 
united  to  place  upon  American  character  a  burden 
which  in  too  many  instances  it  has  not  been  able 
to  bear. 

It  is  our  own  individual  characters  that  are  at  fault 
and  not  the  institutions  whose  upbuilding  is  the  work 
of  the  ages.  Sound  and  upright  individual  human 
characters  will  uplift  society  far  more  speedily  and 
surely  than  any  constitutional  or  legislative  nostrum 
or  the  following  of  any  economic  or  philosophical  will- 
o'-the-wisp.  Unethical  acts  precede  illegal  ones  and 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  UNREST  281 

speedily  lead  to  them.  Given  an  acute  perception  of 
the  difference  between  right  and  wrong,  a  clear  con- 
ception of  duty,  and  an  appreciation  of  the  solemn 
obligations  of  a  trust,  our  social  and  political  system 
would,  perhaps,  be  found  to  work  equitably  and  well. 
Without  these  traits  no  system  is  workable.  Moral 
regeneration,  not  political  and  economic  reconstruc- 
tion, is  what  we  chiefly  need. 

This  view  of  our  present-day  problems  I  press  upon 
you  with  all  the  emphasis  at  my  command.  Most  of 
all  I  ask  you  to  keep  your  balance  and  poise  in  the 
presence  of  excitement  and  turmoil,  and  to  learn  well 
the  lesson  of  him  who  led  men — 

"By  his  clear-grained  human  worth, 
And  brave  old  wisdom  of  sincerity" 

— Abraham  Lincoln. 


XXX 
LYNCH-LAW 


Address  on  Commencement  Day,  June  12,  1907 


LYNCH-LAW 

A  Virginia  planter  of  the  eighteenth  century,  himself 
a  Quaker,  and  so,  presumably,  a  lover  of  law  and 
order  and  peace,  has  given  his  name  to  that  mode  of 
summary  punishment,  without  due  authority,  which  is 
everywhere  known  as  lynch-law.  The  word  to  lynch 
may  properly  be  extended  to  cover  not  only  summary 
acts  without  warrant  of  law,  but  summary  judgments 
without  due  knowledge  of  the  facts.  In  this  sense 
the  lynching  habit  is  both  wide-spread  and  growing. 
Men  and  women  of  education  and  sound  training  may 
well  be  put  on  their  guard  against  it. 

The  mad  rush  of  our  contemporary  life,  the  haste 
to  pass  on  to  something  new  and  more  exciting,  the 
daily  press  with  its  hectic  head-lines  and  its  guillotine- 
like  opinions,  all  assist  us  to  form  the  habit  of  acting 
and  judging  without  thinking.  It  is  amazing  how 
large  a  part  of  our  every-day  mental  attitudes,  whether 
as  to  men  or  public  policies  or  passing  events,  are  the 
result  of  the  lynching  habit.  A  passage  from  a  public 
address,  torn  loose  from  its  setting;  a  partial  or  par- 
tisan presentation  of  a  political  act  or  measure;  or  a 
distorted  and  inaccurate  account  of  some  important 
happening,  will  serve  to  fix  our  permanent  attitude 
toward  a  man  or  an  event,  and  we  may  never  know 
how  hopelessly  inadequate  or  erroneous  the  grounds 

285 


286  LYNCH-LAW 

for  that  attitude  are.  We  pass  on  in  blind  error  to 
still  other  and  more  confident  lynchings. 

The  training  that  a  university  offers  is  the  surest 
corrective  of  the  lynching  habit.  In  the  laboratory, 
the  lecture-room,  and  the  seminar,  facts  are  carefully 
collected  and  sifted  and  weighed,  and  final  judgment 
is  held  in  suspense  until  the  process  is  ended.  Even 
then  the  judgment  is  held  subject  to  the  discovery  of 
new  evidence.  This  mental  state  is  not  one  of  uncer- 
tainty, but  of  open-mindedness.  Open-mindedness 
and  the  habit  of  reserving  judgment  until  the  facts 
are  established  will  soon  rid  our  natures  of  the  lynch- 
ing habit  and  its  deplorable  intellectual  and  moral 
effects.  To  set  this  example  to  others  is  just  now  a 
duty  that  is  heavily  incumbent  on  men  and  women  of 
university  training. 

The  lynching  habit  also  finds  support  in  the  present- 
day  demand  for  immediate  and  tangible  results,  no 
matter  how  difficult  the  problem  or  how  involved  the 
process.  This  demand  is  in  itself  highly  irrational. 
In  his  invaluable  essay  On  Compromise  John  Morley 
calls  attention  to  the  wholly  unwarranted  impatience 
at  the  slowness  of  social  and  political  and  intellectual 
change.  "People  seldom  realize,"  he  says,  "the 
enormous  period  of  time  which  each  change  in  men's 
ideas  requires  for  its  full  accomplishment.  We  speak 
of  these  changes  with  a  peremptory  kind  of  definite- 
ness,  as  if  they  covered  no  more  than  the  space  of  a 
few  years.  .  .  .  Yet  the  Reformation  is  the  name  for 
a  movement  of  the  mind  of  northern  Europe,  which 


LYNCH-LAW  287 

went  on  for  three  centuries.  Then  if  we  turn  to  that 
still  more  momentous  set  of  events,  the  rise  and  estab- 
lishment of  Christianity,  one  might  suppose  that  we 
could  fix  that  within  a  space  of  half  a  century  or  so. 
Yet  it  was  at  least  four  hundred  years  before  all  the 
foundations  of  that  great  superstructure  of  doctrine 
and  organization  were  completely  laid.  .  .  .  We  lose 
the  reality  of  history,  we  fail  to  recognize  one  of  the 
most  striking  aspects  of  human  affairs,  and  above  all 
we  miss  that  most  invaluable  practical  lesson,  the 
lesson  of  patience,  unless  we  remember  that  the  great 
changes  of  history  took  up  long  periods  of  time  which, 
when  measured  by  the  little  life  of  a  man,  are  almost 
colossal,  like  the  vast  changes  of  geology." 

To  resist  the  tendency  to  lynch-law  judgments  of 
men  and  things  and  to  cultivate  that  admirable  intel- 
lectual patience  which  is  a  sure  attribute  of  wisdom 
are  excellent  undertakings  for  us  all.  Especially  are 
they  excellent  undertakings  for  those  who,  like  this 
great  company  of  college  and  university  graduates,  are 
now  to  be  held  responsible  by  their  Alma  Mater  and 
by  the  community  at  large  for  their  use  of  the  training 
they  have  received  and  the  opportunities  they  have 
enjoyed. 


XXXI 
CONTACT  WITH  THE  FIRST-RATE 


Address  on  Commencement  Day,  May  27,  1908 


CONTACT  WITH  THE  FIRST-RATE 

The  goodly  company  that  to-day  goes  out  from  these 
walls  with  the  tokens  of  Alma  Mater's  satisfaction  and 
approval  looks  almost  of  necessity  forward.  New  and 
strange  tasks  are  now  to  be  begun  and  life's  careers 
are  now  to  be  entered  upon.  Our  university  is  to  be 
justified,  or  not,  of  her  children  according  as  these 
tasks  are  performed  and  these  careers  accomplished. 
How  shall  each  one  of  you  know  ten  years  hence,  or 
twenty,  whether  he  is  still  growing  in  nature  and  in 
spirit,  and  whether  he  is  really  doing  things  that  are 
worth  while  in  the  world  ?  This  question  implies  that 
there  are  standards  by  the  application  of  which  we 
are  able  to  determine  whether  the  answer  is  to  be  yes 
or  no. 

There  is  no  revelation  of  character,  of  its  solidity 
or  its  hollowness,  like  that  of  the  standard  to  which  one 
resorts  for  the  test  of  excellence.  These  standards  are 
to  be  chosen  with  full  recognition  of  the  high  signifi- 
cance of  the  choice,  and  when  chosen  they  are  to  be 
treasured  as  their  value  deserves.  Our  standards  of 
physical  measurement  are  carefully  kept  from  ex- 
posure to  heat  and  cold,  to  dust  and  disturbance,  that 
their  accuracy  may  not  be  impaired.  Just  so  are  our 
standards  of  intellectual  and  moral  measurement  in 
need  of  protection.  They,  too,  suffer  from  abuse, 

291 


292  CONTACT  WITH  THE  FIRST-RATE 

from  misuse,  and  from  exposure,  and  when  they  so 
suffer  the  results  are  in  high  degree  unhappy. 

A  university  has  done  but  poorly  for  the  student  if 
it  has  not  given  him  safe  and  enduring  standards  for 
the  measurement  of  intellectual  and  moral  excellence. 
The  educated  man  or  woman  should  know,  and  there- 
fore should  shun,  the  sham,  the  tawdry,  the  preten- 
tious, and  the  second-rate.  Nothing  is  so  health- 
giving  to  the  human  spirit  as  constant  association  with 
what  is  truly  first-rate.  In  reading  the  story  of  the 
life  of  Gladstone,  one  can  almost  see  his  nature  grow 
deeper  and  stronger  and  broader  through  contact  with 
noble  aspiration,  with  large  problems  of  public  con- 
cern, with  the  most  excellent  books,  and  with  the  most 
elevated  spirits  of  his  time.  So,  in  lesser  degree,  it 
may  be  for  each  one  of  us.  If  we  choose  the  excellent 
and  abide  by  it,  the  excellent  will  reward  us  with  its 
gifts  of  power  and  satisfaction. 

A  most  persistent  enemy  of  sound  standards  is  the 
tendency  to  delight  in  the  applause  of  the  crowd,  and 
in  the  acclaim  of  the  unthinking,  the  immature,  and 
the  ill-informed.  More  than  one  leader  of  men,  past 
and  present,  has  been  led  astray  by  the  strong  tempta- 
tion which  this  tendency  offers.  Sometimes  one  al- 
most feels  that  the  noisiest  policy  is  to  pass  for  the 
best,  and  that  that  which  is  at  the  moment  the  most 
popular  is  to  be  adjudged  the  wisest.  This  confusion 
is  the  chief  danger  to  which  democracy  is  exposed. 
What  men  want  often  contradicts  what  men  ought  to 
have,  and  to  bring  the  two  into  harmony  is  the  su- 


CONTACT  WITH  THE  FIRST-RATE          293 

preme  task  alike  of  education  and  of  statesmanship. 
Not  the  clamor  of  the  crowd,  however  angry  or  how- 
ever emphatic,  but  what  Sir  Thomas  Browne  quaintly 
called  "the  judgment  of  the  judicious,"  is  the  true 
standard  of  merit.  To  it  we  must  constantly  and 
hopefully  repair.  We  should  never  be  tempted  or 
cajoled  or  frightened  into  deserting  it.  Moreover,  we 
soon  learn  that  time  is  an  element  in  all  weighty  judg- 
ments as  to  the  excellence  of  human  endeavor.  If  it 
be  true  that  distance  lends  enchantment  to  the  view, 
it  is  also  true  that  distance  gives  a  sense  of  true  pro- 
portion and  perspective,  and  an  opportunity  to  take 
notice  of  the  consequences  of  actions  and  undertakings. 
Many  lives  that  promise  well  end  in  disappointment 
or  worse.  Observation  of  the  activities  of  men  seems 
to  warrant  the  belief  that  the  promise  of  twenty  or 
twenty-five  is  not  often  fulfilled  at  forty  or  forty-five. 
Each  human  life  appears  to  be  projected  into  view 
with  a  certain  initial  velocity  and  a  certain  potential 
energy,  and  the  trajectory  of  most  lives,  even  those 
from  which  much  is  expected,  tends  to  bring  them, 
through  loss  of  initiative,  to  the  level  of  assured 
mediocrity  by  forty  or  forty-five  years  of  age.  Length 
of  years  and  capacity  for  achievement  seem  to  stand 
in  little,  or  at  least  in  no  direct,  relation  to  each  other. 
The  lesson  is  plain.  When  the  serious  business  of 
life  is  begun  few  men  find  time  or  inclination  to  refresh 
the  spirit  and  to  restore  its  energy,  and  so  for  many 
human  beings  any  but  the  most  routine  existence 
comes  to  an  end  when  the  original  store  of  potential 


294          CONTACT  WITH  THE  FIRST-RATE 

energy  is  exhausted.  On  the  other  hand,  the  life 
whose  potential  energy  is  constantly  renewed  and  in- 
creased by  helpful  service,  by  sober  reflection,  and  by 
continued  study,  may,  and  will,  continue  to  keep  its 
trajectory  high  above  the  ground  for  decade  after 
decade. 

What  has  been  done  here  at  the  university  by  way 
of  preparation,  and  for  the  nurture  of  mind  and  char- 
acter, is  not  an  end,  but  a  beginning  only.  To  stop 
now  storing  up  energy,  and  material  convertible  into 
energy,  means  that  the  really  useful  part  of  your  lives 
will  be  over  in  another  score  of  years.  The  present 
stock  of  intellectual  fuel  will  then  be  exhausted  in  all 
but  a  very  few  cases  in  each  thousand. 

Both  ambition  and  the  instinct  of  self-preservation 
unite,  therefore,  in  insisting  that  we  shall  labor  to 
keep  ourselves  intellectually  and  morally  alert,  that 
we  shall  not  exhaust  our  powers  or  let  them  rust 
through  neglect,  but  that  we  shall  so  use  them  that 
they  constantly  gain  in  effectiveness  as  experience 
heightens  their  possibilities.  To  do  this  is  to  gain 
success  in  life,  whether  one's  place  in  the  world  be 
conspicuous  or  humble. 

Refreshment  and  vigor  of  mind  and  spirit  will  come 
most  surely  from  observance  of  those  ancient  words  of 
counsel,  than  which  none  are  wiser: 

Whatsoever  things  are  true,  whatsoever  things  are  honorable, 
whatsoever  things  are  just,  whatsoever  things  are  pure;  whatso- 
ever things  are  lovely,  whatsoever  things  are  of  good  report;  if 
there  be  any  virtue  and  if  there  be  any  praise,  think  on  these  things. 


XXXII 
INTEGRITY 


Address  on  Commencement  Day,  June  2,  1909 


INTEGRITY 

One  of  the  best  known  of  the  Odes  of  Horace  is  that 
which  begins  with  the  line 

Integer  vitae  scelerisque  purus. 

Whether  the  poet  was  serious,  or,  as  some  think,  in  a 
jocular  vein,  when  he  wrote  this  ode,  makes  little 
difference;  his  famous  line  has  been  read  for  centuries 
in  tribute  to  integrity. 

What  higher  reward  can  come  to  a  man  than  to  have 
it  justly  said  of  him  that  he  possessed  integrity  ?  This 
means  that  his  nature  was  upright,  sound,  complete; 
that  there  were  no  great  gaps  in  his  moral  armor,  and 
no  weak  spots  in  his  stock  of  intellectual  convictions. 
The  man  who  possesses  integrity  must  not  only  be 
incorruptible — that  goes  without  saying;  he  must  also 
be  just,  clear-sighted,  and  wise  with  the  wisdom  which 
attaches  to  a  tried  experience. 

Lack  of  moral  integrity  is  as  sad  as  it  is  common. 
Sometimes  it  is  one  solicitation,  sometimes  another, 
which  successfully  assails  a  man's  completeness  and 
leaves  him  imperfect,  broken,  soiled.  Lack  of  intel- 
lectual integrity  is  no  less  sad.  It  implies  the  absence 
of  a  body  of  principles  on  which  one's  knowledge  and 
convictions  rest.  It  implies  a  lack  of  stability  of  pur- 
pose; a  fitfulness,  which  leaves  one  to  be  borne  hither 

297 


298  INTEGRITY 

and  yon  by  the  blasts  of  temporary  opinion  or  by  the 
forces  of  everlasting  selfishness. 

The  training  which  a  university  gives  is  poor  stuff 
indeed  if  it  has  not  asserted  integrity  alike  of  mind  and 
of  character  as  an  attainable  ideal,  and  if  it  has  not 
aided  in  its  upbuilding. 

There  is  a  subtle  and  often  clever  type  of  mind 
whose  activity  does  great  damage  to  integrity  by  its 
narrow  distinctions,  its  cunning  splitting  of  hairs,  and 
its  constant  asserting  of  half-truths  in  place  of  that 
whole  truth  and  nothing  but  the  truth  which  integrity 
loves.  One  may  learn  the  lesson  of  integrity  if  he  will 
but  open  his  eyes  and  look  nature  in  the  face;  or  read 
history  with  insight  and  appreciation;  or  move  among 
men  as  they  go  about  the  work  of  the  world,  and 
watch  the  building  up  and  the  falling  down  of  human 
character. 

There  is  no  substitute  to  be  found  for  integrity; 
money  will  not  buy  it,  nor  will  any  accumulation, 
however  vast,  remove  the  stain  of  its  opposite.  It  is 
one  of  man's  most  precious  possessions  and  it  will  be 
sought  by  high-minded  and  confident  youth  with  all 
the  earnestness  and  vigor  of  their  being. 

Integrity  has  its  standards,  and  precious,  time-old 
standards  they  are.  It  will  not  be  deceived  by  fraud 
and  hypocrisy  appearing  before  it  in  the  garb  of 
honesty  and  frankness;  nor  will  it  be  misled  by  selfish- 
ness, calling  in  imitation  of  the  stern  voice  of  duty. 

The  world  is  full  of  men  who  possess  moral  integrity 
in  abundance,  but  who  are  sadly  lacking  in  integrity 


INTEGRITY  299 

of  the  intellect.  They  have  never  learned  the  real 
meaning  of  the  words  principle  and  conviction.  They 
do  not  know  that  the  man  of  integrity  cannot  at  one 
and  the  same  time  cherish  contradictory  opinions  or 
pursue  mutually  exclusive  aims.  Their  natures  lack 
wholeness.  They  are  composite  men,  made,  like 
Joseph's  coat,  of  many  colors.  The  solid,  substantial 
unity  of  mind  which  comes  from  applying  to  each 
problem  as  it  arises  the  test  of  well-founded  convic- 
tion is  unknown  to  them.  They  pick  and  choose  as 
they  go  through  life,  and  are  content  to  believe  that 
they  possess  the  much-desired  integrity  because  they 
do  not  commit  a  major  sin.  This  is  self-deception  at 
its  worst.  The  man  who  possesses  integrity  is  a  being 
quite  different  from  this.  He  has  gained,  either  from 
instinct  by  habit,  or  through  training,  the  power  to 
think  clearly,  and  he  persists  in  asking  of  each  new 
problem  what  solution  is  prescribed  for  it  by  the  prin- 
ciples that  he  holds.  He  is  not  swept  off  his  feet  by 
the  popular  cry  of  the  moment,  for  he  knows  that  in 
the  life  of  man  one  popular  cry  succeeds  another  with 
startling  rapidity,  and  that  all  alike  are  apt  to  be  quite 
meaningless  and  misleading.  Nor  is  he  unduly  cast 
down  because  just  now  some  policy  in  which  he  believes 
appears  to  work  badly  and  to  disappoint  those  who 
have  most  urgently  pressed  it  forward.  He  knows 
that  in  the  long  run  worth  asserts  itself,  and  that  so 
long  as  history  has  a  story  to  tell  it  has  been  the  story 
of  constant  improvement  in  man's  conditions,  of  in- 
creasing control  by  man  over  his  environment,  and  of 


3oo  INTEGRITY 

new  and  complicated  adjustments  between  man  and 
that  environment  as  both  become  more  complex  in 
their  natures  and  as  they  touch  each  other  at  more 
points. 

I  beg  of  you,  as  you  go  out  from  this  university,  to 
set  your  hearts  upon  intellectual  as  well  as  upon  moral 
integrity,  seeking  a  unity,  a  wholeness,  a  soundness,  a 
steadfastness,  a  straightforwardness,  which,  taken  to- 
gether, are  integrity  itself.  Do  not  be  deceived  with 
frauds  and  shams,  and  do  not  be  alarmed  with  clamors 
and  with  cries.  Remember  well  the  lessons  you  have 
learned  from  nature;  remember  well  the  lessons  you 
have  learned  from  history;  remember  well  the  lessons 
you  have  learned  from  association  with  your  fellows 
and  from  observation  of  them;  and  out  of  these  lessons 
make  each  for  himself  a  foundation  of  indestructible 
convictions  upon  which  to  build  an  intellectual  life  of 
increasing  activity  and  value,  not  only  to  yourselves, 
but  to  your  kind. 


XXXIII 
INTELLECTUAL  CHARITY 


Address  on  Commencement  Day,  June  I,  1910 


INTELLECTUAL  CHARITY 

In  the  veritable  babel  of  confusion  which  surrounds 
us  on  every  hand,  one  is  tempted  to  turn  into  a  sermon 
on  charity  an  address,  however  brief,  to  those  who 
are  to-day  leaving  their  university  behind  them. 

All  forms  of  thought,  as  well  as  all  forms  of  social 
and  political  life,  are  just  now  undergoing  disturbance, 
upheaval,  reconstruction.  There  are  those  who  inter- 
pret these  happenings  and  changes  in  terms  of  a  new 
Renaissance,  out  of  which  are  to  come  greater  achieve- 
ments of  human  intelligence  and  human  character  than 
the  world  has  yet  seen.  There  are  others  who  prefer 
to  think  that  we  are  living  in  a  period  of  decadence 
and  they  find  in  the  history  of  the  decline  and  fall  of 
the  Roman  Empire  an  analogy  to  what  is  going  on 
round  about  us  to-day. 

It  is  more  cheerful  at  least,  and  probably  more  cor- 
rect, to  take  the  brighter  rather  than  the  darker  view 
of  contemporary  history.  But  whatever  view  be  taken 
there  is  abundant  room  for  the  exercise  of  charity  and 
abundant  demand  for  it. 

The  air  is  filled  with  recriminations.  On  every 
hand  motives  are  impugned,  established  standards  are 
attacked,  and  proposals,  however  carefully  studied, 
are  torn  to  pieces  by  adverse  and  complaining  critics 
before  there  is  time  to  consider  them  fairly.  There  is 
hot  applause  for  the  loudest  voice  that  makes  the 

3°3 


304  INTELLECTUAL  CHARITY 

lowest  appeal,  and  there  is  a  readiness  to  believe  ill 
of  men  and  institutions  which  is  not  pleasant  to  witness. 
Particularly  are  those  who  represent  the  established 
order  and  those  who  have  reached  positions  of  prom- 
inence and  power,  however  well  deserved,  made  the 
objects  of  attack  and  the  butt  of  complacent  ridicule. 
These  may  not  reply  in  kind,  and,  therefore,  to  that 
extent  the  popular  demand  for  vigorous  and  even  em- 
bittered controversy  is  disappointed.  Those  who  have 
felt  the  helping  hand  of  college  and  of  university 
should  go  out  into  the  world  thus  occupied  and  thus 
interested,  with  the  fullest  possible  measure  of  in- 
tellectual charity.  The  human  mind  has  a  myriad 
facets,  and  it  rarely  reflects  experience  and  observa- 
tion in  more  than  one  of  them.  It  takes  the  sum 
total  of  many  individual  pictures  to  tell  the  whole 
story  of  what  actually  happens.  There  is  always 
room  for  the  other  point  of  view,  and  the  occasions 
are  rare  indeed  when  there  is  not  something  to  be  said 
on  the  other  side  of  any  question. 

Systematic  training  has  for  one  of  its  main  pur- 
poses the  giving  of  a  poise  or  balance  that  is  to  keep 
men  and  women  from  merely  sharing,  like  dumb  driven 
cattle,  in  the  stampede  of  the  moment.  To  the  trained 
and  disciplined  minds  of  college  and  university  gradu- 
ates, evidence,  as  distinguished  from  assertion,  ought 
to  make  a  conclusive  appeal. 

Science,  however,  does  not  appear  to  be  able  to  pro- 
duce of  itself  fair  and  open  mindedness,  nor  does  litera- 
ture or  law;  a  subtle  something  which  may  perhaps 


INTELLECTUAL  CHARITY  305 

be  called  intellectual  charity  must  be  added  if  into 
disputed  questions  there  is  to  be  carried  not  only  the 
knowledge  but  the  temperament  which  resolves  diffi- 
culties and  composes  misunderstandings. 

It  is  unbecoming  for  one  whose  mind  has  been 
trained  by  college  and  university  discipline  to  become 
the  mere  partisan  promoter  of  any  person  or  cause. 
Enthusiasm  he  should  have  in  fullest  measure,  but  not 
the  narrowness  approaching  bigotry  which  prevents 
his  seeing  the  other  side  and  appreciating  a  different 
point  of  view. 

It  must  be  the  observation  of  every  one  that  mankind 
is  in  a  complaining  mood.  Ten  meetings  of  protest 
are  held  for  one  meeting  of  approval;  ten  journalistic 
reproaches  will  be  found  for  every  journalistic  com- 
mendation. In  part,  this  attitude  of  mind  and  speech 
is  due  to  superabundant  egotism,  but  in  larger  part  to 
lack  of  intellectual  charity.  The  superabundant  ego- 
tist does  not  like  that  which  he  cannot  understand 
and  cannot  manage.  His  favorite  mode  of  expression 
is  the  jeer  or  the  sneer,  and  unfortunately  he  finds 
altogether  too  many  amused  listeners.  Then,  too, 
there  is  an  odd  gap  or  chasm  between  what  many  men 
profess  to  believe,  between  the  principles  which  they 
profess  to  hold,  and  what  they  habitually  do  and  say. 
This  want  of  unity  and  harmony  between  profession 
and  practice  is  a  constant  source  of  surprise  and  as- 
tonishment. 

The  fact  probably  is  that  mankind  has  not  yet 
become  accustomed  to  its  new  responsibilities.  De- 


3o6  INTELLECTUAL  CHARITY 

pendence  was  converted  into  independence  with  sur- 
prising speed  during  the  centuries  from  the  sixteenth 
to  the  nineteenth,  and  thereby  a  heavier  load  was 
put  upon  humanity  than  it  had  yet  been  trained  to 
bear.  Self-government,  whether  it  be  of  the  indi- 
vidual or  of  the  community,  remains  after  all  these 
long  years  a  problem  full  of  perplexity  and  difficulty. 
Those  of  us  who  believe  that  mankind  is  steadily 
climbing  up-hill  believe  that  all  the  forces  in  the  world 
which  make  for  progress  are  preparing  men  for  the 
better  discharge  of  responsibility  and  for  the  more 
generous  use  of  opportunity.  We  cannot  deny,  how- 
ever— we  dare  not — that  there  is  a  long  road  yet  to 
travel. 

It  is  just  for  this  reason  that  the  greater  exercise 
of  intellectual  charity  is  so  sorely  needed.  Ignorance 
is  not  perhaps  itself  a  vice,  but  it  is  the  mother  of 
many  vices,  and  that  partial  ignorance  which  masquer- 
ades as  knowledge  is  a  fruitful  parent  of  everything 
that  ought  not  to  be. 

Carry  out  into  the  round  of  daily  life  an  intellectual 
charity.  Do  not  insist  upon  imposing  your  own  view 
upon  a  universe  that  is  itself  larger  and  more  com- 
plicated than  any  view  which  an  individual,  however 
talented,  can  possibly  hold.  Try  to  understand  that 
others  are  as  sincere  and  of  as  high  motives  as  yours, 
even  though  they  appear  to  be  moving  in  a  quite 
different  direction. 

If  the  colleges  and  universities  cannot  produce  men 
and  women  who  will  exercise  intellectual  charity,  and 


INTELLECTUAL  CHARITY  307 

so  soften  the  asperities  and  limit  the  controversies  of 
which  life  is  already  too  full,  then  where  indeed  shall 
intellectual  charity  be  found  ? 

There  are  many  things  to  reflect  upon  on  a  day  like 
this,  but  perhaps  nothing  is  more  worthy  of  our  reflec- 
tion on  this  day  than  those  traits  and  characteristics 
which  will  help  to  shape  the  ordinary  happenings  of 
daily  life  by  the  high  influences  that  go  out  from  this 
university. 


XXXIV 
THE  AGE  OF  IR RATIONALISM 


Address  on  Commencement  Day,  June  7,  1911 


THE  AGE  OF  IRRATIONALISM 

It  is  the  fashion  of  historians  and  students  of  history 
to  fasten  a  particular  century,  or  age,  or  epoch,  both 
in  the  imagination  and  in  the  memory  by  giving  to  it 
a  name.  We  know  what  is  meant  when  one  speaks 
of  the  age  of  Pericles,  or  the  age  of  chivalry,  or  the 
age  of  reason,  as  in  each  case  mankind  has  hit  upon  a 
great  personality,  a  distinctive  institution,  or  an  intel- 
lectual movement  to  serve  at  once  as  label  and  as 
guide-post.  What  shall  we  call  the  time  in  which  we 
live,  and  how  shall  we  designate  the  intellectual  move- 
ment in  which  this  great  company  of  men  and  women 
has  been  trained  to  take,  I  hope  and  believe,  an  effec- 
tive and  an  improving  part  ? 

This  age  of  ours  has  been  called  the  age  of  irration- 
alism.  It  is  accused  of  oversubtlety  and  of  preciosity, 
of  impertinent  self-confidence  and  of  vulgar  lack  of 
respect  for  what  has  been.  Irrationalism  in  one  shape 
or  another  is  said  to  furnish  the  dominant  note  for 
every  department  of  our  life,  and  to  be  as  powerful 
in  philosophy  and  in  sociology  as  in  literature.  We 
are  accused  of  having  departed,  and  of  seeking  to 
depart  still  farther,  from  the  approved  ways  and  from 
established  standards,  and  of  having  a  feverish  desire 
to  find  new  things  to  say  and  new  ways  of  saying 

them. 

311 


312  THE  AGE  OF  IRRATIONALISM 

There  is  a  good  measure  of  truth  in  all  this,  and  it 
is  well  to  be  on  the  lookout  for  the  temptations  and 
the  dangers  which  our  critics  point  out.  It  may  well 
be  that  we  have  confounded  novelty  with  originality 
and  change  with  development,  and  that,  like  the  an- 
cient Athenians,  we  spend  our  time  in  nothing  else 
but  either  to  tell  or  to  hear  some  new  thing. 

Certain  it  is  that  we  are  curiously  under  the  influence 
of  phrases,  and  that  argument  by  epithet  has  come  to 
take  a  high  place  in  our  ratiocination.  To  call  a  man, 
a  movement,  or  a  proposal  by  either  a  flattering  or  an 
obnoxious  name  is  to  remove  them  at  once  from  the 
serious  and  thoughtful  criticism  of  a  large  part  of  the 
population.  Most  persons  are  for  or  against  a  pro- 
posal because  of  what  it  has  been  called.  This,  of 
course,  is  not  intelligent  and  it  is  not  rational;  but  it 
is  very  common.  So  far  as  the  larger  public  is  con- 
cerned, the  last  half-century  of  science,  a  truly  mar- 
vellous period,  has  made  absolutely  no  impression  on 
the  thinking  habit.  It  has  destroyed  many  prepos- 
sessions and  not  a  few  beliefs,  but  it  has  not  taught 
mankind  to  think.  Our  age  is  less  reflective  by  far 
than  was  the  eighteenth  century  or  the  first  half  of 
the  nineteenth.  Men  are  now  so  busy  hunting  for 
something  new  that  they  have  no  time  to  inquire  what 
the  word  new  means. 

It  is  odd  that  we  should  have  fallen  so  largely  into 
this  mood  within  a  short  generation  after  the  doctrine 
of  evolution  had  taken  firm  hold  of  the  minds  of  culti- 
vated men.  If  there  is  any  one  thing  which  that 


THE  AGE  OF  IRRATIONALISM  313 

doctrine  teaches  more  clearly  and  more  insistently 
than  another,  it  is  that  all  true  development  and  prog- 
ress are  out  of  and  because  of  what  has  gone  before, 
and  that  they  are  to  preserve,  not  to  destroy,  those 
structures,  habits,  tendencies,  and  accomplishments 
which  have  shown  themselves  physically  or  morally 
fit;  that  is,  suitable  or  worthy.  It  is  not  easy  to 
explain  why  the  condition  which  surrounds  us  exists, 
but  exist  it  certainly  does;  and  the  educated  man  or 
woman  of  to-day  has  literally  to  struggle  against  being 
swept  into  the  current  of  irrationalism. 

Not  long  since  there  was  a  significant  and  amusing 
discussion  in  France  as  to  why  so  large  a  proportion 
of  the  public  men  of  that  country  come  from  one 
section.  Many  opinions  were  expressed,  but  one  well- 
known  social  philosopher  wrote  that  in  his  judgment 
the  explanation  was  very  simple.  This,  he  said,  is 
the  age  of  the  crowd  and  of  the  demagogue;  that 
particular  section  of  France  provides  both.  Without 
either  accepting  this  judgment  or  dissenting  from  it, 
we  may  be  instructed  by  it.  Whatever  else  this  age 
may  be,  it  certainly  is  the  age  of  the  crowd  and  of  the 
demagogue.  The  crowd  with  its  well-marked  mental 
and  moral  peculiarities  is  everywhere  in  evidence;  and 
demagogues  political,  demagogues  literary,  and  dema- 
gogues religious  din  our  ears  with  hungry  cries.  A 
torrent  of  talk  is  abroad  in  the  land.  The  crowd  just 
now,  the  world  over,  sways  from  right  to  left  in  policy, 
in  belief,  and  in  action,  and  cries  out  with  wild  en- 
thusiasm to-day  for  the  demagogue — political,  literary, 


314  THE  AGE  OF  IRRATIONALISM 

or  religious — that  it  tramples  under  foot  to-morrow. 
The  art  of  being  a  demagogue  appears  to  be  easy  and 
quick  to  learn,  and  the  rewards  of  the  successful  prac- 
tice of  the  art  have  strange  fascination  for  minds  and 
characters  that  one  would  like  to  think  in  all  respects 
worthy.  But  we  are  under  no  obligation  either  to  run 
with  the  crowd  or  to  follow  every  demagogue. 

The  obvious  attitude  of  the  trained  mind  is  not  one 
of  acquiescence  in  the  temporarily  popular  or  in  the 
pursuit  of  the  new,  but  one  of  searching  for  those 
basic  principles  revealed  in  the  structure  of  human 
society  and  of  nature,  on  which  alone  lasting  policies 
and  institutions  can  be  built.  To  the  man  who  does 
not  think  and  who  cannot  think,  the  most  reactionary 
proposal,  if  only  it  bear  the  label  progressive,  attracts 
as  though  it  were  a  genuine  advance.  Selfishness  and 
ambition  clothed  in  the  apparatus  and  nomenclature 
of  virtue  have  great  success  in  securing  the  support 
of  those  really  disinterested  and  well-meaning  persons 
for  whom  a  label  acts  as  an  effective  substitute  for 
thought.  We  should  not  let  them  deceive  or  mis- 
lead us. 

It  is,  of  course,  not  easy  to  think.  Very  few  human 
beings  have  formed  the  habit  of  persistent  thinking  in 
regard  to  those  matters  which  press  upon  their  atten- 
tion and  which  solicit  their  interest  and  their  help. 
Most  of  us  are  dominated  by  the  newspaper  head-line, 
and  the  men  who  write  these  head-lines  are  the  real 
makers  of  current  history. 

In  order  to  think  and  to  form  the  habit  of  thinking, 


THE  AGE  OF  IRRATIONALISM  315 

one  must  have  a  point  of  departure.  That  point  of 
departure  may  safely  be  taken  in  deep-rooted  respect 
for  what  has  been,  for  what  has  lasted,  for  what  has 
charmed  and  delighted  generation  after  generation 
and  century  after  century.  No  one  can  intelligently 
face  forward  who  has  never  looked  intelligently  back. 

The  true  and  most  useful  type  of  conservative  is  one 
who,  as  was  said  of  King  Alfred,  bases  his  character 
upon  old  facts,  but  who  accepts  new  facts  as  a  reason 
for  things.  Change  through  conviction  is  real  intel- 
lectual progress.  Change  through  vague  yearnings, 
through  nervous  excitement,  through  following  a  pur- 
veyor of  phrases  and  platitudes,  through  rebellion 
against  the  laws  of  nature  and  of  man,  or  through 
restless  inability  to  understand,  is  not  progress,  but 
reaction.  The  typical  self-styled  progressive  of  to-day 
appears  to  believe  that  any  leap  in  the  dark  is  better 
than  standing  still.  So  he  invents  novelties  in  politics, 
in  literature,  and  in  religion,  and  plays  with  them  in 
full  view  of  a  delighted  and  admiring  public.  This  is 
irrationalism  in  full  operation. 

University  study  should  have  taught  each  of  you 
that  one  of  our  main  businesses  in  life  is  to  form  the 
habit  of  tracing  facts,  theories,  projects,  and  schemes 
back  to  controlling  principles,  as  well  as  to  gain  that 
genuine  historical  point  of  view  which  makes  the 
words  development  and  progress  aglow  with  lively 
meaning. 

These  habits  will  defend  us  from  the  allurements  of 
irrationalism,  and  will  aid  in  defeating  and  destroying 


3i6  THE  AGE  OF  IRRATIONALISM 

it.     The  power  of  robust  and  independent  thinking  is 
irrationalism's  mortal  enemy. 

If  those  who  go  out  from  the  universities  are  not 
proof  against  irrationalism,  what  hope  is  there  for  the 
less  fortunate  and  the  less  advantaged  ?  One  who,  de- 
spite his  training,  feels  a  temptation  to  yield  to  irra- 
tionalism because  it  is  popular  and  easy,  may  perhaps 
take  a  hint  from  Doctor  Johnson.  "I  am  sometimes 
troubled,"  said  Boswell,  "by  a  disposition  to  stingi- 
ness." "So  am  I,"  replied  Johnson,  "but  I  do  not 
tell  it." 


XXXV 
SUCCESS 


Address  on  Commencement  Day,  June  5,  1912 


SUCCESS 

Another  great  army  of  men  and  women,  filled,  I 
am  sure,  with  ambition  and  with  hope,  is  about  to 
march  out  through  the  gates  of  this  university.  Years 
of  preparation,  in  some  cases  general,  in  others  highly 
special  and  particular,  lie  behind.  What  does  the 
future  hold  ?  Whither  are  we  tending,  what  use, 
what  application,  are  we  to  make  of  it  all  ?  One 
word  springs  almost  inevitably  to  the  lips  of  ardent 
youth:  "My  one  wish  is  to  be  successful."  When 
life's  race  is  run  and  the  account  is  made  up  once  for 
all,  everything  will  be  found  to  hang  upon  the  meaning 
of  this  word  "success."  As  each  individual  interprets 
the  object  of  his  ambition,  so  will  he  mould  his  char- 
acter. As  each  individual  moulds  his  character,  so 
will  he  leave  a  good  or  an  evil  repute  behind,  or  pass 
through  life  unnoticed  and  unmarked. 

"Success,"  said  the  poet  ^Eschylus,  "is  man's  god." 
What  seers,  what  diviners  of  human  nature  and  of  its 
everlasting  forms  those  ancient  Greeks  were !  Truly 
success  is  man's  god,  and  modern  man  worships  that 
god  far  more  devotedly  and  far  more  whole-heartedly 
than  he  worships  Deity  itself.  Everything  turns  then 
on  whether  success  is  interpreted  in  terms  of  disci- 
plined character,  of  generous  service,  and  of  real  accom- 
plishment, or  whether  it  is  measured  in  the  base  coin 
of  greed,  of  passing  popularity,  or  of  the  glamour  of 

319 


320  SUCCESS 

position  which,  like  a  rocket,  only  bursts  into  bright- 
ness to  die  in  the  dark. 

A  man's  attitude  toward  success  and  his  interpreta- 
tion of  it  may  easily  change  with  his  environment.  In 
an  age  of  predominant  interest  in  letters  and  in  art,  a 
Dante  and  a  Michael  Angelo  are  successful,  as  are  a 
Shakspere  and  a  Rembrandt.  In  an  age  of  discovery 
and  of  invention,  the  pendulum  of  attention  swings 
to  the  philosophers  and  the  men  of  science  who  blaze 
the  way  for  new  paths.  In  an  age  of  commerce 
and  of  industry,  requiring  for  their  prosecution  all 
the  resources  of  huge  amassments  of  capital,  human 
interest  passes  to  those  who  are  the  possessors  of  the 
greatest  accumulations.  The  successful  man  of  one 
age  may  in  another  be  a  mendicant  even  for  reputa- 
tion and  for  honor. 

Man's  chief  responsibility  is  not  for  external  things 
of  any  sort.  It  is  for  his  inner  self,  for  his  standards, 
and  his  attitude  to  those  many  enticing  things  that 
lie  without.  Conduct  is  the  one  sure  test  of  character, 
and  success  is  only  to  be  judged  in  terms  of  conduct. 
When  the  great  ship  Titanic,  a  veritable  Vanity  Fair, 
went  staggering  to  its  awful  doom,  merchant  prince 
and  pauper  were  alike  stripped  of  their  acquisitions 
and  were  left  standing  side  by  side  as  human  souls 
to  face  death  clad  only  in  their  characters. 

Surely  the  world  is  old  enough  and  man's  experience 
is  long  and  wide  and  deep  enough  to  make  all  this 
unforgetable.  Yet  how  constantly  it  is  forgotten  !  On 
hand  we  see  men's  characters  offered  for  sale  at 


SUCCESS  321 

the  price  of  a  paltry  and  passing  gain.  One  sells  his 
character  for  dollars;  another  for  the  soothing  shouts 
of  the  populace;  another  for  position  and  power, 
which,  however  high,  are  dishonored  by  the  fact  of 
their  purchase  at  the  cost  of  even  a  single  human 
virtue. 

That  character  which  guides  conduct  to  true  success 
is  a  disciplined  character.  It  is  not  fitful,  or  wayward, 
or  blown  about  by  every  wind  of  doctrine,  or  moved 
by  every  change  of  circumstance.  Discipline  involves 
standards.  The  application  of  standards  implies  rules. 
A  disciplined  character,  therefore,  is  a  character  which 
has  fixed  standards  leading  to  definite  rules  of  con- 
duct. Unless  life  and  study  in  a  university  have 
taught  this  lesson,  the  university  has  failed  in  its  high 
purpose.  The  pressure  for  training  to  enable  one  to 
earn  a  living  is  all  well  enough  in  its  way,  but  those 
who  have  not  learned  how  to  live  will  be  of  no  benefit 
to  civilization  and  of  little  value  to  themselves  simply 
because  they  have  learned  how  to  make  a  living. 

We  need  in  our  individual  lives,  and  we  sadly  need  in 
our  national  and  international  life,  sobriety,  stability, 
dignity  of  mind  and  of  conduct.  Of  much  that  we 
see  about  us  on  every  hand  we  must  say,  as  Junius 
wrote  to  the  Duke  of  Grafton:  "I  do  not  give  you  to 
posterity  as  a  pattern  to  imitate,  but  as  an  example 
to  deter." 

When  we  are  told  that  to  resist  some  strongly  urged 
movement  is  unpopular;  that  to  hold  fast  to  some 
principle  which  all  human  experience  testifies  to  as 


322  SUCCESS 

sound  is  to  be  behind  the  times;  or  that  to  fail  to 
join  in  the  shouts  of  some  gathered  multitude  is  to 
cut  oneself  off  from  influence  and  from  power — a  bid 
is  being  made  for  our  characters.  It  is  being  assumed 
that  they  are  for  sale  and  that  enough  of  these  coins 
will  buy  them.  Unfortunately,  in  too  many  cases 
that  assumption  is  justified.  Very  many  men,  un- 
happily, are  not  able  to  withstand  the  temptation  of 
immediate  advantage.  Their  characters  are  undisci- 
plined. Whatever  may  be  their  professions  they  have 
no  real  principles.  They  are  without  standards  to 
which  in  time  of  doubt  they  resort  for  guidance  and 
for  the  measurement  of  conduct.  No  university  can 
justify  itself  if  it  goes  on  multiplying  the  number  of 
such  as  these.  It  can  only  be  justified  if,  under  its 
influence,  under  its  inspiration,  and  under  its  guidance, 
learning  is  crystallized  into  wisdom  and  character  is 
built  upon  a  sure  foundation.  When,  as  Seneca  puts 
it,  "successful  and  fortunate  crime  is  called  virtue," 
we  are  a  long  way  from  any  lasting  civilization. 

We  are  yet  at  school,  all  of  us;  and  we  are  but 
beginners  at  the  great  task  of  learning  how  to  be  men 
and  women.  Good  animals,  useful  animals,  many  of 
us  are;  but  the  world  stands  sadly  in  need  of  real  men 
and  women,  of  which  there  are  all  too  few.  I  mean 
men  and  women  whose  judgment  is  cautious  but  firm; 
whose  intelligence  is  quick  but  sound;  and  whose 
characters  are  gracious  but  stable.  It  is  only  by  the 
making  of  men  and  women  such  as  these  that  our 
university  shall  be  justified  of  its  children. 


XXXVI 


THOROUGHNESS 


Address  on  Commencement  Day,  June  4,  1913 


THOROUGHNESS 

Once  more  the  gates  of  the  university  swing  outward 
that  these  hundreds  of  young  men  and  women  may  go 
forth  into  what  is  euphemistically  styled  the  world. 
They  carry  with  them,  we  all  hope,  happy  and  welcome 
memories  of  their  life  at  Columbia,  as  well  as  no  small 
burden  of  treasure  that  has  been  laid  up  while  here. 
In  that  burden  of  treasure  it  is  important  that  what 
Tennyson  has  called  the  thorough-edged  intellect  be 
found. 

Thoroughness  grows  more  necessary  as  it  becomes 
less  fashionable.  Sound  and  disciplined  thinking  is 
hard  to  sustain  in  an  atmosphere  filled  with  the  snap- 
ping sparks  of  rapidly  following  emotional  outbursts. 
The  patient  examination  of  evidence  is  not  easy  at  a 
time  when  trial  by  newspaper  elbows  to  one  side  the 
slower  process  of  trial  by  jury.  The  careful  study  of 
all  that  is  involved  in  a  proposal  for  some  new  sort  of 
action  in  morals,  in  politics,  or  in  society,  is  at  a  disad- 
vantage when  public  attention  is  dragged  quickly  from 
one  point  of  the  emotional  compass  to  another,  and 
when  masses  of  men,  intent  only  on  what  they  wish  to 
get  away  from,  have  no  sort  of  care  for  what  they  are 
going  toward.  Just  now  gossip  displaces  conversa- 
tion; vice  and  loathsome  disease  are  extolled  as  worthy 
of  discussion  in  the  drawing-room  and  of  presentation 
on  the  stage;  absorption  in  current  topics  (which  to- 

325 


326  THOROUGHNESS 

morrow  may  be  neither  current  nor  topics)  leaves  no 
place  for  the  genuine  study  of  that  history  and  that 
literature  which  have  withstood  Horace's  fuga  tem- 
porum.  Every  ruling  tendency  is  to  make  life  a 
Flat-land,  an  affair  of  two  dimensions,  with  no  depth, 
no  background,  no  permanent  roots. 

For  all  this  there  is  no  support  to  be  found  in  the 
study  of  science,  of  history,  of  literature,  or  of  philoso- 
phy; least  of  all,  in  the  lessons  taught  by  the  majestic 
doctrine  of  evolution.  Each  and  all  of  these  insists 
unendingly  on  thoroughness  and  on  standards  of  excel- 
lence. There  can  be  no  doubt,  however,  that  we  mod- 
erns have  lost  much  of  the  old  respect  for  thorough- 
ness. We  seem  to  think  that  superficial  brilliancy 
counts  for  more. 

It  is  of  vital  importance  for  those  who  are  just  now 
forming  their  habits  of  mind  and  of  conduct,  and  who 
are  making  for  themselves  a  view  of  the  world,  to 
ponder  all  this  and  to  realize  what  it  means.  He 
would  be  a  poor  scientist  indeed  who  should  describe 
the  ocean  in  terms  of  its  superficial  currents,  its  calms, 
its  storms,  and  its  tempests  only.  The  dark,  silent 
depths,  with  their  rich  remains  of  ages  that  are  past 
and  with  forms  of  life  all  their  own,  exerting  as  they 
do  a  profound  influence  on  the  habitable  globe,  would 
count  for  nothing  in  such  a  judgment.  Or  he  would, 
likewise,  be  a  poor  scientist  who  should  describe  the 
earth's  envelope  in  terms  of  the  air  which  man  breathes 
at  or  near  the  surface  of  the  earth.  The  stupendous 
problems  of  physics,  of  chemistry,  of  mechanics,  of 


THOROUGHNESS  327 

astronomy,  that  grow  out  of  and  are  illuminated  by 
the  characteristics  of  the  upper  atmosphere  and  of  the 
ether,  would  go  unnoted.  In  similar  fashion  the 
estimation  of  man's  individual  and  social  conduct  in 
terms  of  his  swiftly  succeeding  emotions  fails  to  take 
account  of  the  fundamental  facts  and  laws  that  grow 
out  of  the  nature  of  intellect  and  the  necessities  of 
character.  Present  feeling  is  by  no  means  all  that 
there  is  of  life,  although  too  often  many  are  persuaded 
that  it  is  so.  The  making  of  civilization  is  a  gigantic 
task  upon  which  the  past,  the  present,  and  the  future 
are  all  engaged,  and  in  which  the  past,  the  present, 
and  the  future  all  have  an  interest,  out  of  which  inter- 
ests grow  rights.  The  observer  of  the  surface  of  life, 
the  impressionist,  does  not  get  an  understanding  of 
things  as  they  are,  but  only  of  things  as  they  at  the 
moment  appear  to  be. 

If  this  university  has  not  taught  to  every  graduate 
to  whom  it  offers  to-day  the  hand  of  fellowship  the 
lasting  lesson  of  thoroughness,  it  has  in  so  far  failed  no 
matter  what  else  it  may  have  done  for  him.  He  who 
has  schooled  himself  to  go  to  the  bottom  of  things,  to 
follow  up  every  hint,  and  to  pursue  to  its  end  each 
implication,  has  begun  to  get  a  true  notion  of  the 
interdependence  of  nature  and  of  life.  In  this  way 
he  learns  the  lesson  that  beneath  superficial  differences 
lie  hidden,  yet  controlling,  likenesses  and  unities.  He 
comes  to  understand  that  however  diffused  the  light 
of  experience  may  seem  to  be,  in  reality  it  comes  from 
a  single  source.  He  catches  sight  of  the  significance 


328  THOROUGHNESS 

of  principles,  rules,  laws,  and  he  finds  out  how  these 
principles,  rules,  laws  manifest  themselves  in  various 
and  diverse  ways  that  are  a  part  of  their  life  but  not 
all  of  it. 

The  thorough-edged  intellect  is  one  that  has  learned 
these  lessons  and  that  has  formed  the  habit  of  acting 
upon  them.  It  is  not  satisfied  with  assertion  demand- 
ing to  be  accepted  as  proof;  with  desire  urging  that 
it  be  identified  with  need;  or  with  tumultuous  clamor 
claiming  to  usurp  the  place  of  sober  and  reflective 
public  opinion.  It  asks  for  reasons,  it  seeks  for  con- 
trolling principles,  and  it  knows  how  to  set  about 
getting  them.  It  is  my  earnest  hope  that  these  lessons 
of  thoroughness  have  been  so  well  learned  and  so 
pondered  that  they  will  shape  the  life  and  conduct  of 
each  one  of  you,  and  thereby  bring  new  strength  and 
new  satisfaction  both  to  yourselves  and  to  the  com- 
munities that  you  will  serve. 


XXXVII 
LIBERTY 


Address  on  Commencement  Day,  June  3,  1914 


LIBERTY 

It  is  a  matter  of  no  small  concern  to  those  who  leave 
this  university  to-day  for  the  purpose  of  entering  upon 
the  active  work  of  life  to  realize  what  ideas  and  pur- 
poses are  just  now  dominant  in  the  minds  of  men  and 
how  these  differ  from  those  that  have  gone  before.  In 
the  evolution  of  human  ideas  a  curious  cycle  is  observ- 
able. Beliefs  and  tendencies  that  have  once  appeared 
and  that  have  been  rejected  or  outgrown  tend  to  re- 
appear, sometimes  in  a  new  guise,  with  all  the  fresh- 
ness of  youth,  and  they  are  then  acclaimed  by  those 
unfamiliar  with  their  history  as  symbols  of  an  advanc- 
ing civilization.  Probably  the  greatest  waste  recorded 
anywhere  in  human  history  is  that  which  results 
from  the  attempt  to  do  over  again  what  has  once  been 
done  and  found  disappointing  or  harmful.  If  the 
study  of  history  were  more  real  and  more  vital  than 
it  is  ordinarily  made,  and  if  it  showed  ideas,  tendencies, 
and  institutions  in  their  unfolding  and  orderly  devel- 
opment, and  if  the  lessons  of  history  so  studied  were 
really  learned  and  hearkened  to,  the  world  would  be 
saved  an  almost  infinite  amount  of  loss,  of  suffering, 
and  of  discouragement. 

When  this  college  was  young,  the  word  that  rose 
oftenest  and  instinctively  to  the  lips  was  liberty. 
Men  were  then  everywhere  seeking  for  ways  and 


332  LIBERTY 

means  to  throw  off  trammels  which  had  been  placed 
upon  them  by  institutions  of  long  standing  but  which 
were  found  to  hamper  them  at  every  turn  and  to  hem 
them  in  on  every  side.  Liberty  in  those  days  meant 
not  one  thing,  but  many  things.  It  meant  freedom  of 
conscience,  of  speech,  and  of  the  press;  it  meant  par- 
ticipation in  the  acts  of  government  and  in  the  choice 
of  governing  agents;  it  meant  freedom  to  move  about 
over  the  world,  to  seek  one's  own  fortune  under  strange 
skies  and  in  foreign  lands,  there  to  live  the  life  that 
one's  own  mind  and  conscience  selected  as  most  suit- 
able. Liberty  was  then  the  watchword,  not  in  the  new 
world  alone  by  any  means,  but  in  the  old  world  as  well 
and  particularly  in  France,  which  has  so  often  pointed 
the  way  of  advance  in  the  march  of  ideas.  Standing 
in  his  place  in  the  Convention  during  the  fateful  spring 
of  1793,  Robespierre  pronounced  this  definition  of 
liberty  which  is  almost  the  best  of  its  kind:  "Liberty 
is  the  power  which  of  right  belongs  to  every  man  to 
use  all  his  faculties  as  he  may  choose.  Its  rule  is 
justice;  its  limits  are  the  rights  of  others;  its  prin- 
ciples are  drawn  from  Nature  itself;  its  protector  is 
the  law."  Whatever  judgment  may  be  passed  upon 
Robespierre's  conduct,  certainly  his  thought  on  this 
fundamental  question  of  liberty  was  clear  and  sound. 

But  during  the  years  that  have  passed  we  have 
moved  far  away  from  this  view  of  what  is  important 
in  life.  There  has  grown  up,  not  alone  in  America, 
but  throughout  the  world,  an  astonishingly  wide-spread 
belief  in  the  value  of  regulation  and  restriction,  not 


LIBERTY  333 

i 

only  as  a  substitute  for  liberty,  but  directly  in  opposi- 
tion to  it.  That  against  which  the  leaders  of  the  race 
revolted  a  century  and  more  ago  is  now  pressed  upon 
us  in  another  form  as  a  desirable  end  at  which  to  aim. 
Not  liberty,  but  regulation  and  restriction,  are  the 
watchwords  of  to-day,  and  they  are  made  so  in  what 
is  sincerely  believed  to  be  the  greater  public  interest. 
John  Stuart  Mill,  in  his  classic  essay  On  Liberty  saw 
and  described  these  tendencies  nearly  fifty  years  ago, 
but  even  his  clear  vision  did  not  foresee  the  length  to 
which  restrictions  on  liberty  have  now  been  carried. 

Just  as  the  driving  force  of  an  engine  is  to  be  found 
in  the  steam-chest  and  not  in  the  brake,  so  the  driving 
force  in  civilization  will  be  found  in  liberty  and  not  in 
restriction.  The  cycle  will,  in  due  time  and  after  a 
colossal  waste  of  energy  and  of  accomplishment,  com- 
plete itself,  and  liberty  will  once  more  displace  regula- 
tion and  restriction  as  the  dominant  idea  in  the  minds 
of  men.  It  is  worth  your  while  to  take  note,  there- 
fore, that  while  liberty  is  not  now  in  the  foreground  of 
human  thinking  and  human  action,  it  cannot  long  be 
kept  out  of  the  place  which  of  right  and  of  necessity 
belongs  to  it. 

The  only  logical  and  legitimate  restriction  upon 
liberty  is  that  which  is  drawn  from  the  like  liberty  of 
others.  That  men  may  live  together  in  family,  in 
society,  and  in  the  state,  liberty  must  be  so  self-disci- 
plined and  so  self-controlled  that  it  avoids  even  the 
appearance  of  license  or  of  tyranny. 

There  are  three  possible  ways  of  viewing  and  of 


334  LIBERTY 

stating  the  relationship  between  the  individual  and 
the  group  or  mass  of  which  he  forms  a  part. 

In  the  first  place,  each  individual  may  be  regarded  as 
an  end  in  himself  whose  purposes  are  to  be  accom- 
plished at  all  hazards  and  quite  regardless  of  what 
happens  to  his  fellows.  This  is  that  extreme  form  of 
individualism  which  has  always  ended,  and  must  al- 
ways end,  in  physical  conflict,  in  cruel  bloodshed,  in 
violent  anarchy,  and  in  the  triumph  of  brute  force. 
It  does  not  provide  a  soil  in  which  ideas  can  flourish. 

In  the  second  place,  each  individual  may  be  regard- 
ed as  a  mere  nothing,  a  negligible  quantity,  while  the 
group  or  mass,  with  its  traditions,  its  beliefs,  and  its 
rituals,  is  exalted  to  the  place  of  honor  and  almost  of 
worship.  The  logical  and  necessary  result  of  this  view 
has  always  been,  and  must  always  be,  from  the  stand- 
point of  human  accomplishment  in  institutions,  stag- 
nation, powerlessness,  and  failure.  It  is  this  view  of 
life  which  has  from  time  immemorial  held  so  many  of 
the  great  peoples  of  the  Orient  in  its  grip  and  which 
has  set  them  in  sharp  contrast  with  the  active  and 
advancing  life  of  the  West  for  nearly  two  thousand 
years  past. 

The  third  view  of  the  relationship  of  the  individual 
man  to  the  group  or  mass  is  the  one  that  I  would  press 
upon  you  as  offering  the  fullest  measure  of  individual 
happiness  and  achievement  and  the  greatest  amount 
of  public  good.  It  stands  between  the  philosophy  of 
self-assertion,  of  disorder,  of  brute  force,  and  of  an- 
archy on  the  one  hand,  and  the  stagnation  of  an  un- 


LIBERTY  335 

progressive  civilization  on  the  other.  It  is  the  view 
which  emphasizes  the  individual  to  the  utmost  but 
which  finds  the  conception  of  each  individual's  per- 
sonality and  accomplishment  in  his  relations  to  his 
fellows  and  in  his  service  to  his  kind.  "He  that  loseth 
his  life  shall  find  it,"  is  alike  the  last  word  of  eth- 
ical philosophy  and  the  supreme  appeal  to  Christian 
morals.  The  enrichment  and  the  development  of  the 
individual,  in  order  not  that  he  may  acquire  but  that 
he  may  give;  in  order  not  that  he  may  antagonize 
but  that  he  may  conciliate;  in  order  not  that  he  may 
overcome  and  trample  under  foot  but  that  he  may 
help  and  serve — this,  as  distinguished  from  the  philos- 
ophy of  disorder  on  the  one  hand  and  the  philosophy 
of  stagnation  on  the  other — I  call  the  constructive 
philosophy  of  the  institutional  life.  It  is  built  upon 
human  individuality  as  a  corner-stone  and  a  founda- 
tion. The  higher  and  loftier  the  structure  rises,  the 
more  plainly  it  points  upward,  the  heavier  is  the 
burden  that  the  foundation  bears,  and  the  greater  is 
its  service  to  God  and  to  man. 


XXXVIII 
THE  OPEN  MIND 


Address  on  Commencement  Day,  June  2,  1915 


THE  OPEN  MIND 

In  what  spirit  and  in  what  attitude  of  mind  the 
problems  of  practical  life  shall  be  approached  by  men 
and  women  who  have  had  the  benefit  of  the  discipline 
and  the  instruction  of  a  university  are  matters  of 
grave  concern  to  those  charged  with  the  university's 
oversight  and  direction.  It  is  quite  possible  that  one 
may  be  so  assiduous  in  negligence  and  so  skilful  as  to 
carry  away  from  his  college  or  university  study  little 
or  nothing  that  will  aid  him  to  take  a  just,  a  sympa- 
thetic, and  a  helpful  attitude  toward  the  questions 
which  life  insistently  asks.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is 
easily  possible,  and  it  should  be  normal  and  most 
usual,  for  the  student  to  take  with  him  from  his  college 
and  university  residence  very  much  that  will  give  him 
important  advantage  over  his  less  fortunate  fellows  in 
estimating  and  in  passing  judgment  upon  men,  upon 
tendencies,  upon  ideas,  and  upon  human  institutions. 
If  he  has  gained  from  his  study  and  discipline  a  mas- 
tery over  method,  a  trained  habit  of  withholding 
judgment  until  the  evidence  has  been  heard,  a  moral 
standard  that  knows  instinctively  the  difference  be- 
tween right  and  wrong  and  that  leads  him  to  turn  to 
the  one  as  surely  as  it  causes  him  to  recoil  from  the 
other,  then  the  university  has  furnished  him  well. 

But  granted  the  possession  of  these  habits  and 
traits,  it  is  essential  to  beware  of  the  closed  mind. 

339 


340  THE  OPEN  MIND 

The  closed  mind  is  not  of  itself  conservative  or  radical, 
destructive  or  constructive;  it  is  merely  a  mental 
attitude  which  may  be  any  one  of  these  or  all  of  them 
in  turn.  By  the  closed  mind  I  mean  a  mind  which  has 
a  fixed  formula  with  which  to  reach  a  quick  and  certain 
answer  to  every  new  question,  and  a  mind  for  which 
all  the  great  issues  of  life  are  settled  once  for  all  and 
their  settlements  organized  into  carefully  ordered 
dogma.  To  the  closed  mind  the  world  is  a  finished 
product  and  nothing  remains  but  its  interested  con- 
templation. The  closed  mind  may  be  jostled,  but  it 
cannot  have  experience.  The  name  of  a  notable 
historic  family,  the  house  of  Bourbon,  has  passed 
into  familiar  speech  with  the  definition  of  one  who 
forgets  nothing  and  who  learns  nothing.  The  Bour- 
bon typifies  the  closed  mind. 

There  is  another  type  of  mind  equally  to  be  shunned. 
To  be  sure  this  type  of  mind  is  not  closed,  for,  unfor- 
tunately, it  is  quite  open  at  both  ends.  This  is  the 
type  which  remembers  nothing  and  which  learns 
nothing.  To  it  the  name  of  no  historic  family  has 
yet  been  given.  There  is  every  prospect,  however, 
that  some  contemporary  name  may,  through  constant 
association  with  this  type  of  mind,  yet  become  as 
distinguished  and  as  familiar  in  the  speech  of  our 
grandchildren  as  the  name  of  the  house  of  Bourbon 
is  distinguished  and  familiar  to  us. 

Open-mindedness  is  a  trait  greatly  to  be  desired. 
It  differs  both  from  the  closed  mind  and  from  the 
mind  which  consists  wholly  of  openings.  The  open 


THE  OPEN  MIND  341 

mind  is  ready  to  receive  freely  and  fairly,  and  to 
estimate  new  facts,  new  ideas,  new  movements,  new 
teachings,  new  tendencies;  but  while  it  receives  these 
it  also  estimates  them.  It  does  not  yield  itself  wholly 
to  the  new  until  it  has  assured  itself  that  the  new  is 
also  true.  It  does  not  reject  that  which  is  old  and 
customary  and  usual  until  it  is  certain  that  it  is  also 
false  or  futile. 

The  power  to  estimate  implies  the  existence  of 
standards  of  worth  and  their  application  to  the  new 
experiences  of  the  open  mind.  These  standards  are 
themselves  the  product  of  older  and  longer  experiences 
than  ours,  and  they  form  the  subject-matter  of  the 
lesson  which  the  whole  past  teaches  the  immediate 
present. 

History  offers  a  third  dimension  to  the  superficial 
area  of  knowledge  that  each  individual  acquires 
through  his  own  experience.  When  one  proclaims 
that  he  is  not  bound  by  any  trammels  of  the  past,  he 
reveals  the  fact  that  he  is  both  very  young  and  very 
foolish.  Such  an  one  would,  if  he  could,  reduce  him- 
self to  the  intellectual  level  of  the  lower  animals.  He 
can  only  mean  by  such  a  declaration  that  he  proposes 
to  set  out  to  discover  and  to  explain  the  world  of  nature 
and  of  man  on  his  own  account  and  as  if  nothing  had 
been  done  before  him.  He  also  jauntily  assumes  his 
own  certain  competence  for  this  mighty  and  self- 
imposed  task.  His  egotism  is  as  magnificent  as  his 
wisdom  is  wanting.  Such  an  one  possesses  neither 
an  open  mind  nor  a  closed  mind,  but  a  mind  open  at 


342  THE  OPEN  MIND 

both  ends  through  which  a  stream  of  sensation  and 
feeling  will  pour  without  leaving  any  more  permanent 
conscious  impression  than  the  lapping  waves  leave  on 
the  sandy  shore. 

The  man  of  open  mind,  on  the  contrary,  while 
keenly  alive  to  the  experiences  of  the  present,  will 
eagerly  search  the  records  of  the  past  for  their  lessons, 
in  order  that  he  may  be  spared  from  trying  to  do  over 
again  what  has  once  been  proved  useless,  wasteful,  or 
wrong.  The  man  of  open  mind  will  watch  the  rise 
and  fall  of  nations;  the  struggle  of  human  ambition, 
greed,  and  thirst  for  power;  the  loves  and  hates  of 
men  and  women  as  these  have  affected  the  march  of 
events;  the  migrations  of  peoples;  the  birth,  develop- 
ment, and  application  of  ideas;  the  records  of  human 
achievement  in  letters,  in  the  arts,  and  in  science;  the 
speculations  and  the  beliefs  of  man  as  to  what  lies 
beyond  the  horizon  of  sense,  with  a  view  to  seeking  a 
firm  foundation  for  the  fabric  of  his  own  knowledge 
and  his  own  faith.  His  open-mindedness  will  manifest 
itself  in  hearkening  to  the  testimony  of  other  men, 
other  peoples,  and  other  ages,  as  well  as  in  reflecting 
upon  and  weighing  the  evidence  of  his  own  short-lived 
and  very  limited  senses. 

There  is  a  great  difference  between  being  intellectual 
and  being  intelligent.  Not  a  few  intellectual  persons 
are  quite  unintelligent,  and  very  many  intelligent  per- 
sons would  hardly  be  classed  as  intellectual.  One  of 
the  chief  manifestations  of  intelligence  is  open-minded- 
ness.  The  intelligent  man  is  open-minded  enough  to 


THE  OPEN  MIND  343 

see  the  point  of  view  of  those  who  do  not  agree  with 
him  and  to  enter  in  some  measure  into  their  feelings 
and  convictions.  He  is  able,  also,  to  view  the  con- 
flicting arguments  and  phenomena  in  proportion  to 
each  other  and  to  rank  the  less  significant  of  these 
below  the  more  significant.  It  is  quite  possible  to  be 
intellectual  and  to  manifest  the  closed  mind;  but  it  is 
not  possible  to  do  so  and  to  be  intelligent. 

It  is  the  constant  aim  of  this  college  and  university, 
by  act  and  by  precept,  to  hold  up  the  value  of  open- 
mindedness  and  to  train  students  in  ways  of  intelli- 
gence. This  university  is  the  product  of  liberty,  and 
it  is  passionately  devoted  to  liberty.  It  finds  in 
liberty  the  justification  and  the  ground  for  open- 
mindedness,  and  also  the  source  of  those  dangers 
which  it  is  the  business  of  the  educated  man  to  avoid. 
Open-mindedness  in  the  university  teaches  the  habit 
of  open-mindedness  in  later  life.  Genuine  open-mind- 
edness  guides  to  progress  based  upon  wisdom.  That 
each  one  of  you  may  have  caught  something  of  this 
spirit  and  may  constantly  and  effectively  manifest  it 
in  the  years  to  come  is  our  earnest  wish  and  hope. 


XXXIX 
THE  KINGDOM  OF  LIGHT 


Address  on  Commencement  Day,  June  7,  1916 


THE  KINGDOM  OF  LIGHT 

It  is  our  good  fortune  that  there  are  in  America 
men  who  do  not  permit  the  pressure  of  public  service 
or  of  private  business  wholly  to  separate  them  from 
the  intellectual  life.  About  a  quarter  of  a  century 
ago,  a  group  of  such  men  made  a  visit  to  a  farm  near 
Phantom  Lake  in  Wisconsin.  The  attraction  of  the 
lake  proved  so  alluring  and  the  occasion  so  enjoyable 
that  the  visit  was  repeated  year  after  year.  At  each 
of  these  annual  reunions  some  one  of  the  company 
read  a  paper  for  the  inspiration  and  to  the  delight  of 
his  associates.  Some  twenty  years  ago  an  eloquent 
and  scholarly  leader  of  the  American  bar,  who  was 
weighted  heavily  with  professional  responsibilities  and 
who  constantly  rendered  notable  public  service,  took 
as  the  subject  for  one  of  these  Phantom  Club  papers 
"The  Kingdom  of  Light."  The  little-known  essay 
which  he  then  read  is  a  priceless  contribution  to 
American  literature.  Like  the  almost  equally  un- 
known essay  of  John  J.  Ingalls  on  "The  Blue  Grass," 
it  makes  a  sincere,  a  powerful,  and  a  gracious  expres- 
sion of  what  is  best  and  most  natural  in  the  thought 
of  the  unspoiled  American. 

The  kingdom  of  light,  as  the  writer  of  that  paper 
described  it,  is  an  invisible  commonwealth  which  out- 
lives the  storms  of  ages.  It  is  a  state  whose  arma- 
ments are  thoughts,  whose  weapons  are  ideas,  and 

347 


348  THE  KINGDOM  OF  LIGHT 

whose  trophies  are  the  pages  of  the  world's  great 
masters.  Toward  this  kingdom  the  steps  of  his  asso- 
ciates were  directed  with  subtly  guiding  thought  and 
with  singularly  beautiful  expression. 

To-day  a  company  of  young  men  and  young  women, 
numbered  by  hundreds  and  almost  by  thousands,  is 
about  to  march  out  from  this  great  fortress  of  the 
mind  and  soul  to  undertake  the  invasion  and  the 
conquest  of  life.  I  beg  of  you  in  that  march  to  turn 
your  footsteps  constantly  and  untiringly  toward  the 
kingdom  of  light.  The  world  abounds  in  great  cities, 
in  broad  plains,  in  rich  mines,  in  ample  opportunities 
for  what  we  call  personal  and  professional  success;  but 
all  these  are  as  Dead  Sea  fruit  if  we  have  not  found 
our  way,  each  one  of  us,  into  the  kingdom  of  light. 
It  is  doubly  hard  just  now  to  seek  the  protection  and 
the  seclusion  of  that  kingdom.  The  world  is  roaring 
round  about  us;  the  noise  and  the  darkness  of  a  great 
tempest  fills  our  ears  and  blinds  our  eyes.  It  needs 
patience,  it  needs  courage,  it  needs  real  character,  at 
such  a  time  even  to  remember  that  there  is  a  kingdom 
of  light  and  that  we  wish  to  possess  it. 

Every  possible  excuse  is  always  ready  to  offer  itself 
for  leaving  undone  those  things  that  ought  to  be  done. 
Lack  of  time,  pressure  of  practical  life,  the  needs  of 
the  moment,  are  all  urged  as  reasons  why  we  cannot 
make  our  way  to  the  kingdom  of  light  and  enjoy  it  as 
we  should  like  to  do.  After  granting  all  that  may  be 
justly  claimed  for  lack  of  time,  after  granting  all  that 
may  be  urged  on  behalf  of  the  practical  needs  of  the 


THE  KINGDOM  OF  LIGHT  349 

moment,  it  remains  true  that  the  man  who  allows  his 
mental  and  spiritual  nature  to  stagnate  and  to  decay 
does  not  do  so  from  lack  of  time  or  from  the  pressure 
of  other  things,  but  from  lack  of  inclination.  To  enter 
into  the  kingdom  of  light,  to  live  with  great  thoughts, 
to  enjoy  the  beauty  of  letters  and  of  art,  to  absorb  the 
experience  and  to  share  the  ambitions  and  the  hopes 
of  mankind,  all  this  is  primarily  a  matter  of  character 
and  of  will.  The  material  obstacles  that  stand  in  the 
way  of  its  accomplishment  are  too  often  sternly  pres- 
ent, but  they  are  far  from  insurmountable.  Effort, 
persistent  directed  effort,  will  bring  us  quickly  to  the 
kingdom  of  light  and  keep  us  within  its  kindly  gov- 
ernance. 

The  philosophers  rule  the  world,  and  they  have 
always  ruled  it  since  philosophy  began.  The  man  of 
action  may  not  know  whence  his  ruling  ideas  and 
purposes  come;  he  may  not  even  know  what  those 
ruling  ideas  and  purposes  are.  Nevertheless,  they  are 
there  and  they  are  ruling.  They  may  be  the  product 
of  a  good  philosophy,  or  they  may  be  the  product 
of  a  bad  philosophy;  but  of  some  philosophy  they 
are  certainly  the  product.  Ideas  direct  conduct.  He 
who  has  entered  into  the  kingdom  of  light  moves  easily 
and  in  friendly  converse  among  ideas.  He  chooses 
those  that  he  would  have  guide  him  in  his  daily  busi- 
ness. At  nightfall,  perhaps,  he  retires  within  the  quiet 
boundaries  of  this  kingdom  to  refresh  himself  anew 
by  pondering,  by  weighing  again  those  thoughts  that 
console,  and  those  thoughts  that  elevate. 


350  THE  KINGDOM  OF  LIGHT 

There  is  no  such  thing  as  a  common,  a  humdrum,  or 
a  sterile  life,  unless  we  make  it  so  ourselves.  "The 
rainbow  and  the  rose,"  says  my  author,  "will  give 
their  colors  to  all  alike.  The  sense  of  beauty  that  is 
born  in  every  soul  pleads  for  permission  to  remain 
there.'*  If  we  will  but  look  for  it,  there  is  something 
ennobling  and  uplifting  in  every  vocation  to  which  a 
man  can  put  his  hand.  Every  activity  of  life  has  its 
material  aspect  and  its  spiritual  aspect.  It  has  its 
result  in  visible  accomplishment  and  it  also  has  its 
result  in  invisible  mind-building,  will-building,  and 
intellectual  enjoyment. 

Just  now  we  have  been  speaking  much  of  a  little 
town  on  the  river  Avon,  a  town  which,  compared  with 
London,  with  Manchester,  with  Liverpool,  is  negligible 
in  size;  but  we  have  been  speaking  of  Stratford  be- 
cause the  fortunes  and  the  influence  of  letters  are  indis- 
solubly  linked  with  it.  It  is  a  capital  city  of  the 
kingdom  of  light.  It  is  not  potent  as  are  the  cities  of 
commerce  and  of  capital  and  the  homes  of  great  popu- 
lations; but  when  the  rising  tide  of  time  has  swept  all 
these  into  the  valley  of  forgetfulness  the  capital  cities 
of  the  kingdom  of  light  will  remain  safely  seated  upon 
their  high  hills. 

It  is  into  this  kingdom  that  I  would  have  each  son 
and  daughter  of  Columbia  enter.  Its  gates  are  many 
and  various,  its  high  places  are  of  different  kinds  and 
of  different  ages,  but  from  them  all  one  looks  eastward 
to  to-morrow's  rising  sun.  The  purpose  of  perform- 
ance is  to  pave  the  way  for  new  promise;  the  purpose 


THE  KINGDOM  OF  LIGHT  351 

in  looking  back  is  to  fix  the  direction  of  the  line  that 
guides  us  in  moving  forward.  If  we  can  but  learn  the 
lessons  that  the  kingdom  of  light  has  to  teach,  if  we 
can  but  share  the  enjoyment  and  the  elevation  of  spirit 
that  the  kingdom  of  light  has  to  offer,  we  shall  be  made 
wise  and  strong  for  new  accomplishment  that  will 
bring  to  man  new  comfort,  new  happiness,  and  new 
satisfaction. 

In  setting  out  upon  this  journey,  you  carry  with 
you  the  blessing  and  the  good-will  of  the  university  of 
your  choice. 


XL 
A  WORLD  IN  FERMENT 


Address  on  Commencement  Day,  June  6,  1917 


A  WORLD  IN  FERMENT 

The  hundreds,  indeed  the  thousands,  of  American 
youths  who  pass  out  from  this  university  to-day  go 
into  a  new  and  a  strange  world.  It  is  more  than  a 
world  at  war;  it  is  a  world  in  ferment.  From  the 
steppes  of  Russia  all  the  way  across  Europe  and 
America  and  around  to  Japan  and  China  men  and 
nations  are  not  only  engaged  in  a  titanic  military 
struggle  but  they  are  also  examining  and,  when  neces- 
sary, quickly  readjusting  and  reorganizing  their  cus- 
tomary habits  of  thought  and  of  action,  private  as 
well  as  public.  It  is  not  easy,  perhaps  it  is  impossible, 
to  find  an  Ariadne  who  will  give  us  a  guiding  thread 
through  this  labyrinth  of  change.  Presuppositions 
that  have  long  sustained  the  solid  fabric  of  personal 
and  of  national  conduct  have  been  destroyed.  As- 
sumptions that  have  seemed  to  be  made  certain  by  the 
earlier  progress  of  man  have  disappeared  under  the 
pressure  of  the  latest  manifestations  of  trained  human 
capacity  for  evil. 

Before  such  a  scene  the  timid  will  despair,  while  the 
reckless  will  affect  an  indifference  that  they  cannot 
really  feel.  The  wise  will  follow  a  different  course. 
They  will  not  be  hurried  into  judging  of  normal  man 
on  the  basis  of  his  latest  abnormalities,  and  they  will 
not  permit  themselves  to  forget  all  that  human  history 
teaches  because  the  happenings  of  the  moment  seem 

3SS 


356  A   WORLD  IN  FERMENT 

to  teach  something  quite  different.  The  wise  will  not 
lose  their  sense  of  proportion  in  judging  of  events  in 
time,  in  space,  or  in  circumstance. 

Each  individual  whose  training  has  really  reached 
the  depths  of  his  nature,  and  so  has  formed  his  habits 
of  thought  and  of  action,  will  first  examine  his  own 
relation  to  what  is  going  on  in  the  world,  and  will  next 
inquire  how  that  which  is  going  on  is  to  be  judged  in 
terms  of  everlasting  standards  of  right  and  of  wrong, 
of  progress,  and  of  decline.  He  will  first  of  all  find 
himself  to  be  a  member  of  a  politically  organized  group 
which  is  a  nation.  He  will  find  himself  beholden  to 
that  group,  to  its  traditions,  to  its  ideals,  and  to  its 
highest  interests,  not  as  a  parasite  but  as  a  strengthen- 
ing and  a  contributing  force.  Recognition  of  this 
relationship  will  be  the  basis  of  his  loyalty,  and  the 
measure  of  his  loyalty  will  be  not  lip-service  but 
sacrifice.  He  will  in  this  way  discover  that  the  ends 
of  which  his  group  or  nation  is  in  search  are  the  ends 
that  he  must  strive  to  accomplish.  It  will  not  be  diffi- 
cult for  him  to  see  that  in  most  cases,  in  the  vast 
majority  of  cases,  these  ends  are  to  be  reached  by 
persuasion,  by  argument,  by  consent,  but  that  in  the 
last  resort,  if  they  be  ends  on  which  turns  the  whole 
future  of  mankind,  they  must,  if  need  be,  find  protec- 
tion and  defense  in  physical  and  military  force.  This 
is  a  sad  but  significant  evidence  of  the  incomplete  de- 
velopment of  mankind. 

He  will  next  apply  the  standards  of  moral  excellence 
and  approval  to  the  present-day  conduct  of  men  and 


A   WORLD  IN  FERMENT  357 

of  nations,  with  a  view  to  determining  whether  the 
changes  that  are  going  forward  are  making  for  human 
progress  or  for  human  decline.  He  will  be  led  to 
answer  this  question  by  the  relative  importance  ac- 
corded to  ideas  and  ideals.  If  men  and  nations  are 
engaged  in  a  blind  struggle  for  material  gain,  for  mere 
conquest,  for  revenge,  or  for  future  privileges,  then 
what  is  going  on  is  in  high  degree  a  manifestation  of 
bestiality  in  man.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  the  struggle 
be  one  for  the  establishment  on  the  largest  possible 
scale,  in  the  securest  possible  way,  of  those  institu- 
tions and  opportunities  which  make  man  free,  then  the 
contest  rises  to  the  sublime.  In  this  latter  case  every 
contestant  on  behalf  of  such  a  cause  is  a  hero,  and 
every  one  who  offers  his  life  and  his  strength  and  his 
substance  is  a  sincere  lover  of  his  kind. 

It  may  therefore  well  be  that  it  is  for  the  issue  of 
this  war  to  determine  whether  mankind  is  still  in 
progress  or  has  begun  his  decline.  If  the  moral,  the 
economic,  and  the  physical  power  of  men  and  of 
nations  that  love  freedom  is  adequate  to  its  establish- 
ment on  a  secure  basis,  then  mankind  is  still  in  prog- 
ress and  new  vistas  of  satisfaction  and  of  accomplish- 
ment are  to  be  spread  out  before  him.  If,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  strength  of  men  and  of  nations  that  love 
freedom  is  not  adequate  to  this  severe  task,  then  man 
has  crossed  the  Great  Divide  of  his  political  history 
and  is  to  begin  a  descent  into  those  dark  places  where 
force  and  cruelty  and  despotism  wreak  their  will. 
Nothing  less  than  this  is  the  alternative  which  now 


358  A  WORLD  IN  FERMENT 

confronts  not  alone  the  nations  of  the  earth,  but  every 
individual  in  each  one  of  those  nations.  The  respon- 
sibility for  action  and  for  service  cannot  be  devolved 
upon  some  one  else,  least  of  all  can  it  be  devolved  upon 
government  officials  and  government  agencies.  These 
have  their  great  part  to  play,  but  in  last  resort  the 
issue  will  be  decided,  not  by  governments,  not  even 
by  armies  and  by  navies,  but  by  men  and  women  who 
are  the  support  of  all  these  and  whose  convictions  and 
stern  action  are  the  foundation  upon  which  govern- 
ment and  armies  and  navies  rest. 

Let  there  be  no  faltering  by  any  son  or  daughter  of 
Columbia.  The  clock  time  is  about  to  strike  the  most 
portentous  hour  in  all  history.  May  each  child  of 
this  ancient  university  take  inspiration  and  courage 
from  Alma  Mater  herself,  who  in  her  long  life  has  in 
time  of  trouble  never  wavered,  in  time  of  danger 
never  hesitated,  in  time  of  difficulty  never  doubted. 
May  all  her  children  be  forever  worthy  of  her ! 


XLI 

NEW  VALUES 


Address  on  Commencement  Day,  June  5,  1918 


NEW  VALUES 

The  university  which  assembles  to-day  to  mark 
the  passing  of  another  year  is  sadly  depleted  in  num- 
bers. Nearly  350  officers  of  administration  and  in- 
struction have  put  aside  their  academic  duties  in 
order  to  enter  the  military  or  naval  service  of  the 
United  States  or  to  take  part  in  some  other  public 
work  essential  to  winning  the  war.  Our  roll  of  stu- 
dents has  fallen  from  more  than  22,800  to  less  than 
19,500,  and  each  week  sees  new  groups  of  both  men 
and  women  turning  from  their  tasks  here  to  accept 
some  form  of  public  service.  We  would  not  have  it 
otherwise.  The  greater  the  university's  sacrifice,  the 
greater  the  university's  service.  The  spirit  of  1776 
and  the  spirit  of  1861  are  fortunately  no  less  potent 
here  in  this  twentieth  century  than  when  they  first 
found  expression.  The  loyal  devotion  of  Columbia 
University  and  its  zeal  for  service  are  to-day  writing 
a  new  and  proud  chapter  of  our  academic  history. 

What  can  be  said  to  those  who  remain  to  take  part 
in  these  commencement  exercises  that  has  not  already 
been  said  an  hundred  times  and  in  an  hundred  ways  ? 

The  world  now  understands  the  issue  with  which  it 
is  faced,  and  to  none  is  it  probably  more  clear  and 
definite  than  to  those  who  are  this  day  to  close  the 
period  of  their  formal  academic  study.  But  we  must 

take  note  that  amid  all  the  evils  and  horrors  and  out- 

361 


362  NEW  VALUES 

rages  of  this  war  there  are  to  be  seen  a  few  fortunate 
accidents.  Whole  nations  find  themselves  exalted  to 
new  and  lofty  planes  of  noble  feeling  and  of  generous 
emulation  in  sacrifice.  Myriads  of  men  and  women 
count  as  nothing  the  luxuries  and  comforts  upon 
which  they  had  grown  to  depend,  in  order  that  they 
may  find  some  post  of  public  usefulness  and  devotion. 
The  universal  ambition  is  to  be  as  near  the  firing-line 
as  possible.  These  facts  indicate  that  the  rude  shock 
of  war  has  been  effective  to  establish  a  new  scale  of 
values.  Material  gain,  great  authority,  noteworthy 
power,  comfortable  ease,  have  all  been  cast  aside  for 
something  that  is  found  to  be  more  valuable  still. 

The  heart  of  man  has  made  an  articulate  cry,  and 
the  world  has  heard  it !  It  is  a  cry  for  those  funda- 
mental things  that  lie  at  the  very  foundation  of  a 
reasonable  and  a  moral  life.  It  is  a  cry  for  the  pro- 
tection of  the  weak  against  the  strong.  It  is  a  cry  for 
the  enforcement  of  human  law  and  for  the  establish- 
ment of  human  justice.  It  is  a  cry  for  the  protection 
of  a  nation's  plighted  word  against  those  who  would 
treat  it,  when  convenience  demands,  as  only  a  scrap 
of  paper!  It  is  a  cry  for  freedom,  for  liberty,  for 
opportunity  to  live  a  life  of  one's  own  choice  and 
making,  provided  only  that  every  other  man's  equal 
right  be  not  restricted  thereby.  For  these  things  men 
and  nations  are  ready  to  sacrifice  all  that  they  possess, 
and  to  kill  their  fellow  men  whom  they  have  not  seen 
and  whom  they  do  not  know,  in  order  that  of  these 
things  they  may  not  be  deprived. 


NEW  VALUES  363 

Nations  do  not  go  to  war  over  the  multiplication 
table,  or  the  Julian  calendar,  or  the  metric  system,  or 
the  precise  day  and  hour  at  which  a  total  eclipse  of 
the  sun  takes  place.  All  of  these  matters  are  highly 
important  to  the  conduct  and  disposition  of  civilized 
life  and  to  the  convenience  of  man;  but  no  one  of 
them,  not  ten  thousand  other  facts  like  them,  grip 
men's  souls  and  stir  their  spirits  as  does  the  slightest 
happening  that  marks  a  wrongful  infringement  of  hu- 
man liberty,  or  a  wrongful  denial  of  human  oppor- 
tunity. 

The  reason  why  men  and  nations  fight  for  these 
things  which  some  still  think  comparatively  trivial, 
but  which  so  powerfully  affect  human  life  and  human 
aspiration,  is  that  they  are  measured  by  a  scale  of 
values  all  their  own,  and  with  which  no  mere  material 
event  can  possibly  compare. 

We  have  heard  much  of  efficiency,  of  training  for 
some  specific  place  or  function  in  human  society;  but 
the  whole  world  now  understands  that  efficiency  is 
without  moral  quality,  and  may  become  a  mere  instru- 
ment to  most  immoral  and  destructive  ends.  Effi- 
ciency may  temporarily  exalt  a  nation,  but  it  cannot 
save  it  from  that  destruction  which  efficiency,  when 
apart  from  high  human  purpose  and  lofty  ideals,  cer- 
tainly carries  in  its  hand. 

This  is  one  of  the  great  lessons  of  the  war.  It  is  a 
lesson  which  should  be  quickly  applied  to  correct  some 
of  the  rather  shabby  and  superficial  doctrines  that  are 
all  round  about  us  as  to  the  purpose  and  methods  of 


364  NEW   VALUES 

education.  These  may  be  based  upon  efficiency,  they 
may  include  and  attain  efficiency,  and  yet  be  quite 
below  that  plane  of  excellence  upon  which  modern 
man  wishes  and  intends  to  move. 

The  higher  levels  of  activity  and  devotion  are  the 
ones  which  the  war  has  revealed  to  us  as  making  the 
strongest  appeal  to  civilized  man.  It  is  at  these  levels 
we  shall  wish  to  walk;  and  it  is  at  these  levels  that  we 
shall  wish  our  nation,  and  those  splendid  peoples  at 
whose  side  she  stands,  to  reconstruct  the  world  for  a 
new  era  of  progress,  of  happiness,  and  of  established 
international  peace. 

The  call  of  the  coming  future  is  powerful  beyond  all 
compare.  The  joy  of  living,  when  there  is  so  much 
to  do,  should  spur  on  in  unexampled  fashion  those  who 
are  to  become  leaders  of  the  next  generation,  for  these 
are  to  be  charged  with  almost  incredible  responsibility 
for  guiding  the  world  in  search  of  its  new  accomplish- 
ments and  its  new  purposes.  All  knowledge,  all  train- 
ing, all  capacity  are  now  being  consecrated  to  this 
great  aim. 

It  is  the  profound  conviction  of  the  university  you 
this  day  leave,  but  to  whose  membership  you  will 
always  belong,  that  you  understand  these  new  values 
and  that  they  will  guide  your  lives. 


XLII 
DISCIPLINE 


DISCIPLINE 

For  a  long  time  to  come  the  world  will  be  staggering 
under  the  blows  inflicted  by  the  war  upon  its  political, 
its  economic,  and  its  social  systems.  For  a  still  longer 
time  the  world  will  be  learning  the  lessons  of  the  war's 
experience  and  interpreting  anew,  in  the  light  of  that 
experience,  not  only  its  aims  and  ideals  but  its  methods 
of  life  and  work. 

The  two  million  Americans,  drawn  from  every  walk 
of  life,  who  went  to  France  to  offer  their  lives  if  need 
be  in  the  high  cause  of  international  justice  and  polit- 
ical liberty  are  coming  back  with  new  and  broader 
outlook,  with  deeper  convictions,  and  with  a  sterner 
sense  of  the  realities  of  life.  In  less  degree,  perhaps, 
•  these  same  lessons  have  been  learned  by  those  soldiers 
and  sailors  who  remained  at  home,  and  by  the  tens 
of  millions  of  men  and  women  who  followed  with 
anxious  solicitude  the  events  of  each  succeeding  day 
in  the  war's  history. 

Unless  all  signs  fail,  the  war  has  taught  a  new  respect 
for  discipline  and  has  re-established  in  the  minds  of 
men  some  ancient  convictions  that  had  lately  shown 
signs  of  weakening.  It  was,  for  example,  the  excep- 
tionally effective  and  minutely  organized  discipline  of 
the  German  people,  political,  economic,  and  social,  as 
well  as  military,  that  made  the  war  an  actual  fact.  It 

367 


368  DISCIPLINE 

was  the  lack  of  an  equally  effective  and  well-ordered 
discipline  on  the  part  of  the  people  of  the  allied  nations 
that  permitted  the  issue  to  hang  so  long  in  the  balance. 
Amazing  courage,  limitless  sacrifice,  and  unbreakable 
wills  sustained  the  shock  of  battle  against  overwhelm- 
ing odds  until  that  full  organization  of  national  power 
and  competence  which  discipline  aims  to  effect  had 
been  brought  into  existence.  When  that  happened,  the 
war  was  speedily  won,  for  the  self-imposed  discipline  of 
the  free  peoples  was  certain  to  be  immensely  superior 
to  the  arbitrarily  imposed  discipline,  even  though 
cheerfully  assented  to,  of  the  Germans. 

In  similar  fashion,  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands 
of  individuals  whose  lives  had  been  running  at  loose 
ends  and  who  had  never  had  the  occasion  or  the  invita- 
tion to  summon  all  their  resources  for  the  accomplish- 
ment of  some  high  and  definite  purpose  found,  some- 
times to  their  surprise,  that  there  was  a  specific  and 
helpful  place  for  them  in  the  closely  organized  military 
or  economic  life  of  the  nation.  To  hold  this  place  one 
condition  was  absolutely  necessary;  namely,  that  they 
accept  discipline  and  obey  orders.  In  a  twinkling  of 
an  eye  these  men,  young  and  old,  found  themselves 
working  cheerfully  and  unselfishly  as  parts  of  a  great 
effective  engine  of  national  expression.  Much  in  the 
way  of  achievement  that  had  seemed  beyond  their 
reach  was  now  of  every-day  occurrence.  Life  was 
filled  with  new  satisfactions  because  there  was  a  stead- 
ily deepening  consciousness  of  work  that  was  worth 
while  being  worthily  done.  The  unrest  and  the  dis- 


DISCIPLINE  369 

satisfaction  which  so  many  of  these  brave  youths  feel 
to-day  is  due  in  no  small  measure  to  the  fact  that 
after  this  striking  experience,  with  its  revelation  of 
their  own  value  to  the  world,  they  are  sent  back  on 
briefest  warning  to  a  life  in  which  their  part  and  place 
are  by  no  means  so  definite  or  so  clearly  defined,  and 
in  which  they  see  disorganization  and  wastefulness 
seeming  to  usurp  the  place  of  discipline  and  that 
precise  adaptation  of  means  to  ends  with  which  they 
had  become  familiar. 

These  contrasts  afford  material  for  grave  reflection. 
Through  long  centuries  of  observation  and  experience 
mankind  had  learned  very  much  about  the  meaning 
and  the  methods  of  discipline,  but  in  the  decade  or 
two  immediately  preceding  the  war  there  had  been  a 
steadily  growing  tendency  to  overlook  all  this  and  to 
assert  either  that  general  discipline  was  impossible  or 
that  it  was  unimportant.  The  war  has  rudely  over- 
turned a  good  many  tables  of  irrelevant  statistics  and 
has  made  it  unnecessary  longer  to  pay  attention  to 
elaborate  records  of  unmeaning  experiments.  The 
hard  sense  of  men  again  asserts  itself  and  points  clearly 
to  discipline  as  a  necessary  element  in  individual,  in 
social,  and  in  national  progress.  All  depends  on  the 
use  which  is  made  of  discipline  and  on  the  purposes 
which  a  disciplined  individual,  a  disciplined  society, 
or  a  disciplined  nation  aims  to  accomplish. 

The  beginnings  of  discipline  are  found  in  man's 
contact  with  the  forces  of  nature.  He  soon  learns 
that  he  is  limited  by  the  instruments  and  the  material 


370  DISCIPLINE 

which  nature  provides,  by  the  processes  which  we  call 
nature's  laws,  and  by  his  own  general  relation  to  an 
environment  which,  however  much  it  may  submit 
itself  to  inquiry  and  to  modified  control,  stubbornly 
resists  being  done  away  with  entirely. 

The  second  step  in  the  development  of  discipline  is 
the  experience  of  the  race  and  the  teachings  of  our 
elders.  These  save  us  from  the  necessity  of  having 
to  make  over  again  the  costly  and  painful  mistakes  of 
those  who  have  gone  before  us.  They  tell  us  in  un- 
mistakable terms  that  certain  courses  of  action  and 
certain  habits  are  advantageous  and  are  to  be  followed 
and  built  up,  while  certain  other  courses  of  action  and 
certain  other  habits  are  disadvantageous  and  are  to 
be  let  alone.  A  very  large  part  of  formal  education 
consists  in  learning  these  lessons  of  human  experience 
and  in  coming  gradually  to  understand  the  reasons  for 
them. 

The  third  and  final  step  in  discipline  is  when  the 
individual  of  maturing  powers  takes  immediate  con- 
trol of  his  own  life,  and  by  his  own  will  and  because  of 
his  own  understanding  imposes  upon  himself  the  limita- 
tions and  restrictions  which  human  experience  teaches 
to  be  necessary  or  expedient.  The  aim  of  all  discipline, 
therefore,  is  self-discipline.  We  study  the  limitations 
which  nature  imposes  upon  man  and  we  learn  the 
lessons  which  past  experience  teaches,  in  order  that 
man  may  govern  himself  in  the  light  of  these,  and 
constantly  advance  through  a  progress  that  is  con- 
structive because  it  is  built  upon  the  sure  foundation 


DISCIPLINE  371 

of  a  knowledge  of  nature  and  a  knowledge  of  human 
happenings. 

The  notion  that  men  may  drift  through  life  without 
discipline  or  without  purposed  shaping  of  their  con- 
duct and  yet  be  worthy  of  human  opportunity  and 
human  aspiration  is  not  very  complimentary  to  man- 
kind, or  even  to  the  lower  animals.  The  instincts  of 
the  latter  provide  them  with  the  protection  against 
disaster  which  discipline  and  self-discipline  offer  to 
man.  Drifting  through  life,  whether  it  be  a  life  of 
comparative  ease  or  a  life  of  comparative  hardship,  is 
not  a  worthy  use  of  personality.  The  period  of  study 
and  formal  preparation  is  the  period  when  youth  are 
absorbing  from  nature  and  from  human  experience  the 
raw  material  with  which  to  construct  their  own  life- 
aims  and  their  own  course  of  ordered  conduct.  If 
school  and  college  and  university  training  and  teaching 
do  not  supply  these,  they  have  sadly  failed.  Infor- 
mation is  no  substitute  for  discipline,  nor  will  mere 
skill  or  competence  take  its  place.  Information  is 
useful  if  it  be  the  material  for  reflection,  but  other- 
wise it  has  only  the  value  of  an  index  to  an  encyclo- 
paedia. Skill  and  competence  are  useful  if  they  are 
organized  for  the  accomplishment  of  a  fine  and  clearly 
understood  purpose.  Otherwise  they  easily  become 
the  instruments  of  vice  and  crime.  It  is  man's  pur- 
pose which  is  the  key  to  his  character,  and  it  is  man's 
self-discipline  for  the  accomplishment  of  his  purpose 
which  is  the  explanation  of  his  success  or  failure  in 
life.  And  by  success  is  not  meant  getting  rich.  The 


372  DISCIPLINE 

mere  heaping  up  of  great  wealth,  which  a  generation 
ago  was  thought  to  be  a  laudable  occupation,  is  now 
felt  to  be  a  rather  stupid  use  of  time  and  opportunity. 
If  wealth  be  gained  and  then  used  for  human  advance- 
ment, that  is  one  thing;  but  if  it  be  heaped  up  and 
merely  left  like  a  ball  and  chain  around  the  feet  of 
the  next  generation,  that  is  quite  another  matter. 

A  self-disciplined  nation  made  up  of  self-disciplined 
men  and  women,  training  its  youth  through  discipline 
to  self-discipline,  is  a  nation  that  is  building  on  a  sure 
foundation  not  only  for  prosperity  but  for  that  happi- 
ness, that  usefulness,  and  that  satisfaction  which  give 
to  prosperity  its  real  significance.  To  aid  in  that 
accomplishment  has  been  the  aim  and  the  purpose  of 
Columbia  University  through  a  hundred  and  sixty-five 
years.  May  your  memories  of  the  days  spent  in 
Columbia's  halls  be  ever  bright  and  welcome,  and  may 
both  success  and  satisfaction  accompany  you  as  you 
do  your  part  in  the  work  of  the  world. 


XLIII 
CAPTAINS  OF  A  GREAT  EFFORT 


Address  on  Commencement  Day,  June  2,  1920 


CAPTAINS  OF  A  GREAT  EFFORT 

A  world  in  ferment  has  passed  into  a  world  per- 
plexed. Not  since  the  invention  of  printing  and  the 
rise  of  the  common  school,  with  the  consequent  spread 
of  knowledge  among  the  people,  have  so  huge  and  so 
little  understood  forces  been  at  work  in  the  world  as 
is  the  case  at  this  moment.  We  are  standing,  in  a 
state  of  unstable  equilibrium,  at  the  summit  of  a  vast 
upheaval  out  of  the  political,  the  social,  and  the 
economic  life  of  the  modern  nations.  This  upheaval 
has  long  been  under  way.  The  discovery  and  the 
settlement  of  America  were  both  a  symptom  and  a 
cause.  The  struggle  between  parliament  and  the  king 
and  the  overthrow  of  the  Stuarts  were  both  a  symptom 
and  a  cause.  The  development  of  modern  science,  the 
philosophic  and  economic  doctrines  whose  beginnings 
are  associated  with  the  eighteenth  century,  and  the 
French  Revolution  itself,  were  both  a  symptom  and  a 
cause.  The  progress  of  invention,  the  development 
and  the  applications  of  steam  and  of  electricity,  the 
industrial  revolution,  the  gathering  of  increasing  units 
of  population  in  large  cities,  the  weakening  and  the 
decline  of  faith,  first  in  the  unseen  and  eternal  and 
next  in  the  power  of  fundamental  principles  of  life  and 
of  morals,  were  both  a  symptom  and  a  cause.  If  the 
Great  War  had  not  sprung  from  the  lust  of  Teutonic 
Imperialism  in  1914,  it  now  seems,  as  we  look  back, 

375 


376  CAPTAINS  OF  A  GREAT  EFFORT 

not  unlikely  that  it  would  have  sprung  from  some 
other  cause  a  few  years  later.  The  beast  in  man  lies 
very  near  the  surface  and  the  worst  side  of  human 
nature  is  constantly  ready  to  challenge  its  best  side 
to  mortal  combat. 

In  all  these  facts  and  happenings  are  to  be  found 
the  ground  for  the  world's  perplexity.  Its  old  stand- 
ards of  weight  and  measurement  in  matters  political, 
in  matters  social,  and  in  matters  economic  will  no 
longer  serve.  To  change  the  figure,  the  new  wine  of 
experience  and  of  aspiration  cannot  be  poured  into 
the  old  bottles  of  tradition  and  convention.  In  con- 
sequence, the  world  is  perplexed.  It  cannot — it  feels 
that  it  must  not — throw  away  the  great  achievement 
and  rich  experience  of  the  past,  and  it  has  not  yet 
learned  how  to  apply  these  to  the  new  conditions. 
Human  nature  is  once  again  being  subjected  to  a 
searching  test  of  capacity  before  the  stern  tribunal  of 
history.  Those  who  have  faith  in  mankind  are  serenely 
confident  that,  despite  the  troubled  outlook,  all  will 
yet  be  well.  Those  who  have  lost  faith  in  mankind  see 
"not  light,  but  rather  darkness  visible,"  and  civiliza- 
tion on  its  way  to  final  ruin. 

If  indeed  these  be  times  that  try  men's  souls,  then 
they  are  good  times  in  which  to  live.  None  but  the 
weakling  or  the  poltroon  will  turn  his  back  upon  the 
tremendous  struggle  to  put  civilization  upon  a  new 
and  yet  stouter  foundation.  The  call  to  men  and 
women  of  capacity,  of  courage,  and  of  character  is 
clarionlike  in  its  clearness.  It  is  not  a  call  to  revolu- 


CAPTAINS  OF  A  GREAT  EFFORT  377 

tion;  it  is  a  call  to  hasten  evolution.  It  is  a  call  to 
summon  all  the  resources  of  a  nation — the  resources 
physical  and  material,  the  resources  intellectual  and 
moral,  the  resources  economic  and  political — for  a 
successful  effort  at  reconstruction  and  advance,  not 
for  ourselves  alone  but  for  the  whole  world  of  civiliza- 
tion. The  old  and  tested  principles  are  still  sound  and 
true  if  they  be  stripped  of  the  seaweed  that  has  grown 
upon  them  during  their  long  voyage  across  the  seas  of 
human  experience.  The  old  characteristics  of  clear 
conviction,  straight  thinking,  human  sympathy,  fine 
feeling,  rugged  determination  are  the  characteristics  of 
the  conquerors  and  the  builders  of  to-morrow.  Do 
not  wait  for  others  to  move.  Come  up  out  of  the 
valley  of  despair,  of  hopelessness,  and  of  impending 
disaster,  and  help  make  the  world  better  and  stronger 
yourself. 

Our  nation  has  passed  through  the  shadow  of  a 
great  danger  and  has  surmounted  that  danger  by  a 
great  effort  which  history  will  never  fail  to  recall  with 
gratitude.  The  danger  was  lest  physical  isolation  and 
a  sense  of  separation  from  the  world's  troubles  might 
lead  to  indifference,  to  selfish  materialism,  and  to  that 
sure  decay  which  follows  upon  self-satisfied  and  effort- 
less national  contentment.  Providence  ruled  other- 
wise. The  heart  of  the  American  people  was  moved, 
its  soul  was  stirred,  and  its  conscience  was  quickened 
to  lively  action,  by  a  rapid  succession  of  events  which 
heralded  the  quick  coming  of  the  day  of  doom  unless 
the  cause  of  human  liberty  was  saved  from  the  brutal 


378  CAPTAINS  OF  A   GREAT  EFFORT 

rule  of  organized  force.  The  American  people  rose, 
men  and  women  alike,  by  the  million.  Each  state, 
each  community,  each  household,  contributed  its  effort, 
and  the  solemn  spectacle  of  one  hundred  and  ten  mil- 
lions of  free  men  and  free  women,  moving  almost  as 
one  toward  the  accomplishment  of  a  high  and  noble 
purpose,  was  offered  to  the  world.  That  effort,  so 
characteristic  of  an  intelligent,  high-minded,  and  lib- 
erty-loving people,  had  its  captains.  There  were 
captains  of  those  who  bore  arms  and  who  went,  life  in 
hand,  singing  the  songs  of  home  and  of  country,  to 
the  front  line  of  battle.  There  were  captains  of  those 
who  go  down  to  the  sea  in  ships,  ceaselessly  to  keep 
watch  amid  darkness  and  storm  and  wave,  lest  harm 
happen  to  men  and  to  those  things  which  minister  to 
the  life  of  men.  There  were  captains  of  those  who 
bring  succor  and  relief  to  the  stricken,  to  the  wounded, 
to  the  starving,  whose  ministry  of  mercy  is  so  beautiful 
an  accompaniment  of  that  last  form  of  high  effort 
which  calls  for  the  sacrifice  of  human  happiness  and 
of  human  life.  There  were  captains  of  those  who 
minister  to  the  minds  and  souls  of  armies  and  of 
navies,  that,  as  the  battle  raged  and  as  the  angel  of 
death  hovered  over  them  seeking  and  choosing  whom 
to  strike,  their  thoughts  might  be  turned  to  "whatso- 
ever things  are  true,  whatsoever  things  are  lovely, 
whatsoever  things  are  just,  whatsoever  things  are 
pure,  whatsoever  things  are  of  good  report."  All 
honor  to  these  many  captains  of  the  nation's  many- 
sided  '  effort;  all  highest  honor  to  those  captains  of 


CAPTAINS  OF  A  GREAT  EFFORT  379 

captains  whose  knowledge,  whose  skill,  whose  insight, 
whose  foresight,  and  whose  devotion  brought  victory 
in  all  its  forms  to  the  cause  upon  whose  success  the 
heart  of  the  American  people  was  so  surely  set. 

Men  and  women  of  Columbia,  those  of  you  who 
to-day  go  out  by  the  thousand  to  take  hold  of  the 
task  of  life,  go  out  from  these  historic  doors  at  a  great 
moment.  You  go  out  when  the  university  has  sum- 
moned to  its  presence  the  captains  of  the  captains  in 
the  nation's  great  effort,  that  it  may  invite  them  to  a 
high  place  in  its  notable  membership  and  say  before 
all  the  world,  with  sincerity,  with  full  appreciation, 
and  with  grateful  joy,  that  they  have  deserved  well  of 
their  country;  that  they  have  added  to  its  repute  and 
renown,  and  that  this  ancient  university  wishes  for- 
ever to  associate  its  name  with  theirs  and  their  names 
with  Columbia. 


XLIV 
FAITH  IN  THE  FUTURE 


Address  on  Commencement  Day,  June  i,  1921 


FAITH  IN  THE  FUTURE 

The  active  and  ingenious  mind  of  Professor  Bergson 
has  lately  reaffirmed  his  belief  that  the  future  is  not 
pre-existent  in  the  present,  and  that  events  are  not 
possible  until  they  have  happened.  One  may  resist 
the  temptation  to  embark  on  the  sea  of  speculation  to 
which  this  statement  invites,  and  yet  be  stimulated  by 
it  to  examine  one's  attitude  toward  the  future  and  the 
effect  of  this  attitude  upon  the  conduct  of  his  daily 
life.  It  is  a  mathematical  truism  that  the  present  is 
wholly  a  creature  of  human  imagination.  Time  is  in 
persistent  flow,  and  as  the  sound  of  the  word  present 
dies  upon  our  ears  that  moment  to  which  it  refers  is 
already  past  and  another  is  fleetly  following  it.  The 
future  does  not  lie  some  distance  ahead  of  us,  only  to 
be  reached  by  long  travail  and  over  many  obstacles. 
It  strikes  us  in  the  face  instantly  as  we  open  our  eyes 
to  view  the  world  in  which  we  live.  The  true  fact  is 
that  faith  in  the  future  is  the  foundation,  and  pretty 
much  the  sole  foundation,  for  all  that  we  do  and  pre- 
pare to  do.  Education,  for  example,  is  toward  a  more 
or  less  definite  end,  and  that  end  is  always  ahead  of 
us.  Work  is  undertaken  for  some  set  purpose,  and 
that  purpose  is  always  ahead  of  us.  Accumulation  is 
sought  for  some  hoped-for  use,  and  that  use  is  always 
ahead  of  us.  Faith  in  the  future  is  the  only  justifica- 
tion for  human  activity  of  any  sort  whatsoever. 


384  FAITH  IN  THE  FUTURE 

The  human  race  has  had  its  full  share  of  pessimists, 
philosophic  and  other,  but  only  occasionally  have  these 
pessimists  had  the  courage  of  their  professed  convic- 
tions and  sought  to  avoid  facing  the  future  by  their 
own  tragic  act.  The  majority  of  men  are,  to  be  sure, 
unreflecting,  unconcerned  with  the  future,  and  in- 
different to  it  save  as  they  instinctively  take  it  for 
granted.  Others,  and  among  these  should  be  all  those 
who  have  caught  the  spirit  of  a  true  university,  have 
faith  in  the  future,  and  by  that  faith  are  led  so  to 
shape  their  acts  and  thoughts  that  the  future  as  it 
comes  shall  be  better  than  the  present  as  it  goes.  This 
faith  in  the  future  is  justified  and  in  high  degree  help- 
ful in  the  guidance  of  life  if  it  rest  on  reasonableness 
and  on  a  full  understanding  of  the  fact  that  what  has 
been  merges  into  what  is  and  makes  way  for  it. 

It  pleases  some  ardent  and  hopelessly  youthful 
spirits  to  portray  themselves  as  in  revolt  against 
things  as  they  are;  but  this  is  not  the  constructive 
temper  or  the  spirit  in  which  to  go  about  the  serious 
business  of  making  the  world  better.  An  apprecia- 
tion of  the  present  and  an  understanding  of  the  past 
are  a  far  better  preparation  for  the  improvement  of 
the  future  than  a  dissatisfaction  with  the  present  and 
a  contempt  for  the  past  can  possibly  be.  Faith  in 
the  future  includes  faith  in  that  upon  which  the  future 
rests  and  out  of  which  it  must  grow.  Professor 
Bergson  may  be  right  in  his  view  that  the  future  is 
not  preformed  in  the  present,  but  surely  he  would 
not  wish  us  to  believe  that  the  future  stands  in  no 


FAITH  IN  THE  FUTURE  385 

relation  to  the  present  and  is  not  in  fact,  if  not  in 
form,  a  product  of  forces,  whether  hidden  or  other, 
that  are  now  at  work  in  the  hearts  and  minds  of  men. 

Contentment  is  as  lofty  and  fine  a  state  of  mind  as 
smug  satisfaction  is  unbecoming  and  unworthy.  Faith 
in  the  future  will  make  use  of  contentment,  but  it  can 
do  nothing  with  smug  satisfaction.  The  man  whose 
mind  is  closed  to  all  proposals  for  change,  for  reason- 
able experiment  with  the  unfamiliar  and  untested,  is 
stubbornly  without  faith  in  the  future.  His  mind  and 
spirit  move  in  a  closed  circle  and  are  the  captives  of 
their  present  environment.  The  free  spirit  will  use 
its  environment  as  a  stepping-stone  to  new  enterprises, 
to  new  experiments,  and  to  new  undertakings.  It  will 
not  be  wasteful  or  extravagant  of  effort,  because  it 
will  remember  what  past  experience  and  past  experi- 
ment have  taught,  and  what  enterprises  and  under- 
takings have  been  definitely  set  aside  as  unwise,  un- 
becoming, or  unworthy.  As  man  goes  forward  in 
civilization,  progresses,  as  we  call  it,  his  field  of  choice 
is  steadily  limited  as  possible  courses  of  thought  and 
action  are  shown  to  be  stupid,  or  harmful,  or  wicked. 
Slowly  through  the  centuries  there  emerge  those 
choices  from  which  selection  must  be  made,  and  these 
become  ideals  by  which  to  guide  and  to  shape  the 
conduct  of  men  and  of  societies.  Faith  in  the  future 
means  faith  in  those  ideals  which  survive  the  test  of 
rational  experience  and  severe  experiment. 

It  is  said  of  Pythagoras  that  when  asked  what  time 
was,  he  answered  that  "It  is  the  soul  of  the  world." 


386  FAITH  IN  THE  FUTURE 

If  time  be  the  soul  of  the  world,  then  the  future  is 
the  material  out  of  which  the  world's  living  body  is 
to  be  built  and  by  means  of  which  its  work  is  to  be 
done.  If  to  our  limited  human  imagination  the  future 
is  the  yawning  void  which  Marcus  Aurelius  thought  it 
to  be,  then  it  is  our  task  to  fill  that  void  full  to  the 
brim  with  worthy  accomplishment.  As  this  accom- 
plishment grows  in  importance  and  in  high  quality 
from  century  to  century  and  from  age  to  age,  it  will 
join  with  those  ideals  which  persist  because  of  their 
nobility  and  their  worth,  to  justify  the  deepest  faith 
of  man  in 

"One  God,  one  law,  one  element, 
And  one  far-off  divine  event 
To  which  the  whole  creation  moves." 


INDEX 


INDEX 


A.  B.  degree.    See  Bachelor  of  arts 

Absence,  leave  of,  113 

Academic  aloofness,  12;  freedom, 
12,  63-65,  88,  115-116,  138,  157- 
160;  career,  113-116;  limitations, 
115-116 

Adams,  Henry,  30 

Administration  and  government, 
163-176 

Admission  requirements  to  King's 
College,  28-29;  examinations,  101, 
106,  108,  no 

Adrain,  Robert,  38 

./Eneas,  66 

yEschylus,  189,  319 

Age  of  Pericles,  311;  of  irrational- 
ism,  311-316;  of  the  crowd,  313- 
314;  of  the  demagogue,  313-314 

Albany,  State  educational  building, 

55 

Alfred,  the  Great,  315 

Algebra,  99 

Allies,  European  war,  220-221 

Althoff,  Friedrich,  83 

American  college.  See  College, 
American 

American  university,  scheme  for,  40; 
president,  82-84;  ideals  of  con- 
quest, 245 

Americans,  moral  principle,  204 

Anderson,  Henry  James,  38,  42 

Anderson,  Martin  B.,  8 1 

Andover  creed,  179 

Anthon,  Charles,  39 

Apostles'  creed,  179 

Aquinas,  Thomas.  See  Thomas 
Aquinas 

Archaeology,  39,  43 

Ariadne,  355 

Aristophanes,  189 


Aristotle,  9,  189,  273 

Arithmetic,  99 

Arnold,  Matthew,  8,  267,  271 

Arts,  Bachelor  of.    See  Bachelor  of 

arts 

Arts,  Faculty  of,  40 
Associations  of  civilized  men,  197 
Auchmuty  family,  30 
Augustine,  St.,  7,  75,  189 
Austria-Hungary,    dismemberment, 

246 
Autocracy,  229,  246 

Bachelor  of  arts  degree,  98-100,  103, 
106,  108;  course  in  reading,  189 

Bacon,  10,  19,  30,  189 

Baden,  at  the  peace  table,  239 

Balliol,  Sir  John  de,  14-15 

Balliol  College.  See  Oxford  Uni- 
versity 

Barclay  family,  30 

Bard,  Samuel,  32 

Barnard,  Frederick  A.  P.,  31,  33,  36, 
42-43,  81-82 

Barnard  College,  253 

Barrett,  Justice,  168-170 

Battle  of  Concord,  40;  of  Lexington, 
40;  of  Sedan,  238 

Bavaria,  at  the  peace  table,  239 

Bayard,  Robert,  30 

Beekman  family,  30 

Belgium,  restitution,  240 

Benson,  Arthur  Christopher,  128 

Bergson,  Henri,  383-384 

Berkeley,  George,  bishop,  28,  30 

Berlin  University,  50,  61,  114 

Betts,  William,  36,  42 

Bible,  allusions  and  quotations,  21, 
28,  45,  163-164,  195,  199-200, 
226,  248-249,  294,  299,  312,  335, 


389 


390 


INDEX 


376,  378;  in. Greek  (admission  re- 
quirements), 28 

Bismarck,  238 

Bloomer,  Joshua,  30 

Bogert,  Cornelius,  30 

Bologna  University,  61,  92-93 

Bolsheviki,  literary  and  academic, 

173 

Boswell,  James,  3 16 

Botany,  35,  38 

Bourbon,  house  of,  340 

Bowdoin  College,  Longfellow's  ad- 
dress on  language  teaching,  144 

Bracton,  Henry  de,  38 

British  Museum,  endowment  raised 
by  lottery,  23 

Brodrick,  George  Charles,  21 

Browne,  Sir  Thomas,  293 

Bruno,  Giordano,  4 

Buffon,  20 

Building  of  character,  203-205 

Burke,  Edmund,  20,  256 

Caesar,  99 

Cambridge  University,  21,  31,  61 

Canadian  universities,  61 

Captains  of  a  great  effort,  375-379 

Carlyle,  Thomas,  260-261 

Cathedrals,  72-73 

Cervantes,  189 

Chair  of  divinity,  27 

Chanson  de  Roland,  189 

Character,  building  of,  203-205 

Charity,  intellectual,  303-307 

Charlemagne,  4 

Charter,  of  King's  College,  40;  of 
Columbia  University,  165 

Chemistry,  38,  99 

Children,  individuality  of,  184;  ele- 
mentary training,  186 

China,  imitation  of  the  European 
and  American  university,  66 

Christian  church,  65;  education,  197 

Christmas  greeting  to  Columbia's 
participants  in  the  European  war, 
224-226;  229-230 

Church  and  state,  4-5,  10-11,  197- 


199;  Christian  church,  65;  an 
educational  agency,  197 

Church  of  England,  and  King's  Col- 
lege, 24-25 

Cicero,  10,  28,  99 

City  and  the  university,  14,  27,  44- 

45,  497SI,  138-14° 

Civilization,  progress  of,  72 

Classics,  admission  requirements  to 
King's  College,  28;  to  the  early 
American  college,  99;  study  of,  in 
King's  College,  39;  failure  in 
teaching,  188;  present-day  college, 
188-189;  Bachelor  of  arts  read- 
ing list,  189 

Clear  thinking,  253-256 

Clinton,  De  Witt,  33,  37 

Clinton,  George,  56 

Closed  mind,  defined,  339-340 

Glossy,  Samuel,  31-32 

Clubs,  formation  of,  159-160 

Coke,  Sir  Edward,  38 

College,  and  the  city,  14,  27,  44-45, 
49-51,  138-140;  defined,  62;  the 
American  college,  97-110;  sta- 
tistics of  early  distribution,  98; 
degrees,  98;  curriculum,  99;  the 
small  college,  ico;  entrance  exam- 
inations and  change  in  length  of 
course,  101-110.  See  also  Uni- 
versity 

College  of  New  Jersey.  See  Prince- 
ton University 

College  of  Philadelphia.  See  Penn- 
sylvania University. 

College  of  Physicians  and  Surgeons, 
42 

Columbia  University,  change  of  site, 
36,  44;  charter,  40,  165;  Univer- 
sity council,  164;  both  American 
and  Christian,  199-200.  See  also 
King's  College 

Columbia  University  and  the  Eu- 
ropean war,  223-224;  greeting  to 
its  members  who  are  taking  part 
in  the  war,  224-226;  Columbia  and 
the  war  (address),  233-241;  en- 


INDEX 


391 


thusiasm  of  the  teaching  staff, 
234-235;  Students'  army  train- 
ing corps,  245;  reconstruction, 
246-249;  statistics  of  those  who 
have  taken  part,  361.  See  also 
European  war 

Companionship,  worthy,  209-212; 
contact  with  the  first-rate,  291- 
294 

Comte,  Auguste,  91 

Concord,  Battle  of,  40 

Conquests  of  war  and  of  peace,  245- 
249 

Constitutional  revision,  37 

Contact  with  the  first-rate,  291- 
294;  worthy  companionship,  209- 

212 

Contacts  of  civilized  men,  197 
Contemporary    civilization,    course 

in,  188-189 

Contract,  inviolability  of,  280 
Cooper,  Myles,  3 1 
Copernican  theory,  19,  193 
Cornbury,  Edward  Hyde,  lord,  25 
Cottonian  Library,  23 
Course  of  study.    See  Curriculum 
Crowd,  age  of  the,  313-314 
Cruger,  Henry,  30 
Cultusministerium  of  Prussia,  82-83 
Current  topics,  teaching  of,  90 
Curriculum,  of  King's  College,  28- 
30;  of  the  early  American  college, 
99;  course  on  Introduction  to  con- 
temporary   civilization,    188-189; 
special    course    in    reading,    189; 
four-years  course,   101-109,   253- 

255 

Cutting,  Leonard,  31 
Cutting  family,  30 
Cynicism,  259-260 
Czecho-Slovakia,  and  the  League  of 

nations,  239-240 

Dante,  189,  320 

Darwin,  Charles,  4,  19,  189 

Davies,  Charles,  38 

Degrees,  of  presidents  of  Columbia 


University,  32;  Bachelor  of  arts, 
98-100,  103,  106,  108 

De  Lancey,  James,  24-25,  30 

Demagogue,  age  of  the,  313-314 

Democracy,  in  administration,  165; 
in  educational  effort,  196 

Denmark,  and  the  League  of  na- 
tions, 239 

De  Peyster  family,  30 

Discipline,  address  on,  367-372 

Discovery,  spirit  of,  62 

Divinity,  chair  of,  27;  first  instruc- 
tion in,  40 

Duane,  James,  41 

Dublin  University,  Trinity  College, 

31 

Du  Bois-Reymond,  Emil,  120 
Duer,  William  Alexander,  31 

Economics,  38,  99 

Edinburgh  University,  61,  260 

Education,  system  in  New  York 
State,  56-57;  failures  in  method, 
187-188;  denned,  196;  Christian, 
197 

Educational  advance,  act  of  legis- 
lature, 23;  early  movements  in 
King's  College,  32-33;  King's 
College  a  leader  in  the  work  of  the 
Public  School  Society  of  New 
York,  33;  President  Johnson's 
first  advertisement  in  1754,  39; 
expansion  urged  in  faculties,  40; 
scheme  for  an  American  univer- 
sity, 40;  Report  of  1784,  41;  Re- 
port of  1830,  41;  type  of  members 
of  faculties,  51;  first  conceptions, 
56 

Edwards,  Jonathan,  22,  28 

Efficiency,  363-364 

Egotism,  89,  1 20,  194-195,  305,  341 

Elementary  school,  and  personality, 
59;  restored  to  its  proper  busi- 
ness, 186 

Eliot,  Charks  W.,  82 

Elizabethtown,  college  at.  See 
Princeton  University 


392 


INDEX 


Emerson,    Ralph   Waldo,    10,    204, 

21O-211,  221,  266-267 

English  publicists,  20;  universities, 
40;  course  in  English  literature, 
99;  ideals  of  conquest,  245 

Entrance  examinations,  101,  106, 
108,  no 

Erasmus  Hall,  32 

Erie  Canal,  37 

Erzberger,  Matthias,  236 

Ethics,  practical,  203-205 

Eton  College,  31 

Euripides,  189 

European  war,  addresses  on  : 
Steadfast  in  the  faith,  219-226; 
New  call  to  service,  229-230; 
Columbia  and  the  war,  233-241; 
Conquests  of  war  and  peace, 
245-249;  World  in  ferment,  355- 
358;  New  values,  361-364;  Disci- 
pline, 367-372;  Captains  of  a  great 
effort,  375-379 

European  war,  our  allies,  220-221; 
German  propaganda,  222-224; 
greeting  to  Columbia's  partici- 
pants in,  224-226,  229-230;  de- 
scription of  militarism,  235-237; 
reconstruction,  246-249 

Evolution,  doctrine  of,  312-313 

Examinations,  admission,  101,  106, 
108,  no 

Faculties  of  arts,  medicine,  law,  and 

divinity,  40 

Faculty,  philosophical,  62-63,  106 
Faith  in  the  future,  address  on,  383- 

386 

Family,  an  educational  agency,  197 
First  instruction  in  divinity,  40 
First  instruction  in  law,  40 
First  instruction  in  medicine,  40 
First-rate,   contact  with  the,   291- 

294;  worthy  companionship,  209- 

212 

Fish,  Hamilton,  36,  42 
Fisher,  Herbert,  83 


Fiske,  John,  193 

Foch,  Ferdinand,  233,  236 

Force  and  reasonableness,  215-216 

Foreign-language  study,  143-146 

Four-years  course,  101-109,  253-255 

France,   restitution,   240;   ideals  of 

conquest,  245 

Franklin,  Benjamin,  22,  28 
Freedom  of  speech,  159-160 
French  church,  and  King's  College, 

27;   University,   40;    Revolution, 

375 

Fulton,  Robert,  37 
Future,  faith  in  the,  383-386 

Gauss,  Karl  Friedrich,  38 

Geometry,  99 

German  universities,  82-83;  lecture 
system,  128;  propaganda,  Euro- 
pean war,  222-224 

Germany,  militarism,  235-237;  gov- 
ernment, 237-238;  at  the  peace 
table,  239;  and  the  League  of  na- 
tions, 240;  discipline,  367—368; 
imperialism,  375 

Gibbon,  Edward,  21,  151 

Oilman,  Daniel  C,  82,  86 

Gladstone,  William  Ewart,  211,  292 

Glasgow  University,  31 

God,  conception  of,  195 

Goethe,  189,  273 

Gorgias,  88 

Gospel  of  hope,  259-261 

Gottingen  University,  20-21 

Government  and  administration, 
163-176 

Graf  ton,  Duke  of,  321 

Gray,  Thomas,  21 

Great  Britain.     See  under  English 

Greek.     See  Classics 

Greeley,  Horace,  180-181 

Greetings  to  Columbia's  participants 
in  the  European  war,  224-226 

Griswold,  Joseph,  30 

Hallam,  256 

Halle  University,  21 


INDEX 


393 


Hamilton,    Alexander,    20,    37,    41, 

55-56 

Harleian  manuscripts,  23 
Harper,  William  R.,  82 
Harpur,  Robert,  31 
Harris,  William,  31 
Harrow  School,  32 
Harvard,  John,  14-15 
Harvard  University,  22,  31-32,  82 
Hegel,  189 
Heraclitus,  76 
Herodotus,  189 
Herschel,  38 
Hewitt,  Abram  S.,  37 
Hildebrand,  4 
Hilty,  Carl,  260 
History,  philosophy  of,  39;  study  of, 

43,  99,  331,  341-342;  failures  in 

method,  89,  187 

Hobart,  John  Henry,  bishop,  41 
Hoffmann,  Anthony,  30 
Holland,  and  the  League  of  nations, 

239 

Homer,  99,  189 
Hone,  Philip,  36 

Honesty,  intellectual  and  moral,  261 
Hope,  gospel  of,  259-261 
Horace,  14,  189,  297,  326 
Hosack,  David,  35,  38 
Hosack  botanic  garden,  35 
Household  of  Socrates,  62 
Hugo,  Victor,  189 
Human    personality    in    education, 

59-60-61 

Hume,  David,  189 
Hungary,  dismemberment,  246 
Huxley,  Thomas  Henry,  120 

Idols,  195 

Imperialism,  Teutonic,  375 

Indifference,  259-260 

Individual  and  the  mass,  271-272 

Individuality  of  children,  184; 
human,  334-335 

Ingalls,  John  J.,  347 

Instructors.  S^  Professors;  Teach- 
ers 


Integrity,  moral  and  intellectual, 
297-300 

Intellectual  upheaval,  193;  stand- 
ards for  measurement,  291-294; 
integrity,  297-300;  charity,  303- 

307 

Introduction  to  contemporary  civili- 
zation, course  in,  188-189 

Inviolability  of  contract,  280 

Irish  universities,  40 

Irnerius,  61 

Irrationalism,  age  of,  311-316 

Irving,  John  T.,  41 

James,  Henry,  183 

Jay,  John,  30 

Jay,  Peter  A.,  33 

Jefferson,  Thomas,  20 

Johnson,  Samuel,  21,  316 

Johnson,  Samuel,  first  president  of 
King's  College,  19-20,  28-30; 
graduate  of  Yale,  31;  standing  in 
scholarship,  37;  first  advertise- 
ment of  King's  College  in  1754,  39 

Johnson,    William    Samuel,    31-33, 

36-37,  41 

Joubert,  215 

Jugo-Slavia,  and  the  League  of  na- 
tions, 239-240 

Junius,  321 

Kant,  Immanuel,  20,  75,  189 

Kent,  James,  38 

Kindergarten,  and  personality,  59 

King,  Charles,  31,  41-42 

King,  Rufus,  36 

Kingdom  of  ligh\,  347-351 

King's  College,  Samuel  Johnson, 
first  president,  19-20;  contem- 
porary history,  20;  endowment 
raised  by  lottery,  23;  president 
must  be  a  member  of  the  Church 
of  England,  24;  charter,  25,  40; 
liberality  in  religious  matters,  26- 
29;  admission  requirements,  28- 
29;  curriculum,  28-30;  an  in- 
novator and  leader,  31;  type  of  its 


394 


INDEX 


instructors,  31;  its  presidents,  31- 
32;  educational  advance,  32-33; 
financial  difficulties,  33-36;  change 
of  site,  36,  44;  achievements  of  in- 
structors, 37-39;  plans  for  ad- 
vance, 39-41;  memorial  of  1810, 
41;  plans  of  1858,  42.  See  also 
Columbia  University 
King's  Farm,  25,  34-35,  44 
Kingsland,  grant  to  King's  College, 
34 

Laboratory  instruction,  127-128, 
130,  136 

Lamarck,  20 

Land  grants  to  King's  College,  34-35 

Language  study,  President  Bar- 
nard's outlook,  43;  in  the  early 
American  college,  99;  address  on, 
143-146;  failure  in  method,  187 

Laplace,  Pierre  Simon,  marquis  de, 
20,38 

Latin.     See  Classics 

Lavoisier,  Antoine  Laurent,  20,  38 

Law,  teaching  and  public  service 
in  King's  College,  38;  first  instruc- 
tion in  King's  College,  40;  Law 
school  organized,  42;  Bologna 
University,  61;  Roman,  65;  and 
sociology,  91;  law  case,  People 
ex  rel.  Kelsey  v.  New  York  Medical 
School,  168-170;  lynch-law,  285- 
287 

Leadership  in  reconstruction  work, 
246-249 

League  of  nations,  239-241 

Leave  of  absence,  113 

Lecture  as  a  method  of  instruction, 
at  Kings'  College,  42;  danger  of 
being  overlectured,  92-93;  value 
and  faults  of,  128-129,  134-135 

Leibnitz,  170 

Lessing,  189 

Lewis,  Morgan,  41 

Lewis  and  Clark  expedition,  38 

Lexington,  Battle  of,  40 

Liard,  Louis,  83 


Liberal  men  and  women,  179-189; 
open-mindedness,  286,  304,  339- 

343 
Liberty,  63-65,  198-200,  280,  331- 

335 

Lieber,  Francis,  39 
Light,  kingdom  of,  347-351 
Lincoln,  Abraham,  277-281 
Linnaeus,  Carl  von,  20 
Lispenard  family,  30 
Littleton,  Sir  Thomas,  38 
Livingston,  John  H.,  41 
Livingston,  Robert  R.,  37 
Livingston,  William,  24 
Livingston  family,  30 
Locke,  John,  10,  30,  255-256 
Logic,  99 
Logical  presentation  of  facts,   136- 

137 

London  Spectator,  163 

Longfellow,  Henry  Wadsworth,  144 

Lottery,  money  raised  for  educa- 
tional advance,  23,  26,  33-34 

Louisiana  purchase,  38 

Louvain  University,  236 

Low,  Seth,  32 

Lowell,  James  Russell,  63 

Lower  Estate,  35-36 

Lucretius,  189 

Lusitania  (ship),  240 

Lutheran  church  and  King's  Col- 
lege, 27 

Lyell,  Sir  Charles,  189 

Lynch-law,  in  judgment,  285-287 

Macaulay,  189 

McVickar,  John,  38 

Magazines,  151-152,  181 

Magdalen  College.  See  Oxford  Uni- 
versity 

Making  liberal  men  and  women, 
179-189 

Marcus  Aurelius,  4,  189,  386 

Marston,  Thomas,  30 

Mason,  John  Mitchell,  41 

Mass  and  the  individual,  271-272 

Mathematics,    King's    College,    31, 


INDEX 


395 


38-39;  curriculum,  99;  supervision 
of  teachers,  133-134;  failure  in 
teaching,  188 

Mechanics,  99 

Medicine,  King's  College,  37-38,  43; 
first  instruction  in,  40;  College  of 
Physicians  and  Surgeons,  42 

Memorial  of  1810,  on  King's  College, 

41 

Memory  and  faith,  71-78 

Mental  activity,  period  of,  293-294 

Merton,  Walter  de,  14-15 

Merton  College.  See  Oxford  Uni- 
versity 

Metaphysics,  99 

Michael  Angelo,  320 

Miers,  Sir  Henry,  83 

Militarism,  235-237 

Mill,  John  Stuart,  333 

Milton,  John,  189 

Mines,  School  of,  42 

Mitchill,  Samuel  Latham,  32-33,  38 

Moliere,  189 

Montaigne,  189 

Montesquieu,  189 

Moore,  Benjamin,  31 

Moore,  Clement  C.,  41 

Moore,  Nathaniel  Fish,  31 

Moral  philosophy,  99;  principle,  lack 
of,  in  some  Americans,  204 

Morley,  John,  211,  286-287 

Morris,  Gouverneur,  37 

Morris  family,  30 

Munich  University,  50 

Napoleon,  40 
Natural  history,  38 
New  call  to  service,  229-230 
New  paganism,  193-200 
New  values,  address  on,  361-364 
New  York  (City),  an  influence  in 
scientific    work,     30-31;     Public 
School     Society,     33;    Columbia 
University  and  the  city,  49-51;  a 
laboratory    for    Columbia    Uni- 
versity,   138-140;  German  prop- 
aganda in,  223 


New  York  (State),  Educational 
building  at  Albany,  55;  educa- 
tional system,  56-57;  Superin- 
tendent of  public  instruction,  56- 

57 
New  York  Medical  School  v.  People 

ex  rel.  Kelsey,  168-170 
New  York  University,  50 
Newman,  John  Henry,  50 
Newspapers,  151-152,  181;  trial  by, 

325 

Newton,  Sir  Isaac,  19-20,  30 
Nibelungenlied,  189 
Nicholl  family,  30 
Nietzsche,  Friedrich,  189 
Norway,  and  the  League  of  nations, 

239 

Ogden,  David  B.,  36 
Onderdonk,   Benjamin  Tredwell, 

bishop,  41 
Open-mindedness,  179-189,  286,  304, 

339-343 

Orient,  stagnation  of,  334 
Osborn,  governor  of  New  York,  24 
Oxford  University,   15,  21,  31,  61, 

114;  vocational  training  at,  149- 

150 

Paganism,  new,  193-200 

Paris  commune,  238 

Paris,  German  propaganda,  223 

Paris  University,  32,  50,  61,  114 

Parker,  Francis  W.,  134 

Pascal,  Blaise,  75 

Pasteur,  Louis,  21 1 

Patriotism,  230 

Paul,  St.,  195 

Peace,   sacrifices   of,   229-230;   and 

war,  conquests  of,  245-249 
Pell,  Philip,  30 
Pembroke   College.       See      Oxford 

University 

Pennsylvania  University,  22,  28 
Pensions,  114 
People  ex  rel.  Kelsey  v.  New  York 

Medical  School,  168-170 


396 


INDEX 


Pericles,  age  of,  311 

Personal  responsibility,  265-267 

Personality  in  education,  59-61 

Pessimism,  259-260 

Petrarch,  189 

Petrograd,  German  propaganda,  223 

Phantom  Lake  in  Wisconsin,  347 

Philadelphia,  College  of.  Set  Penn- 
sylvania University 

Philipse  family,  30 

Philology,  39 

Philosophical  faculty,  62-63,  J°6 

Physicians  and  Surgeons,  College 
of,  42 

Physics,  43,  99 

Pilate,  199 

Plans  of  1858,  for  the  advancement 
of  King's  College,  42 

Plato,  90,  179,  189 

Plutarch,  189 

Poland,  and  the  League  of  nations, 
239-240 

Political  economy,  38,  99 

Political  science,  43 

Port  Royal  logic,  255 

Power  to  produce,  183 

Presbyterian  church,  and  King's 
College,  27 

President,  efforts  in  Europe  to  de- 
velop an  office  similar  to  the 
American  university  president, 
82-84;  true  functions  of,  84-85; 
defined  by  D.  C.  Oilman,  86 

Presidents  of  Columbia  University: 
King's  College  president  must  be- 
long to  the  Church  of  England, 
24;  training  and  degrees,  31-32; 
Samuel  Johnson,  19-20,  28-31,  37, 
39;  William  Johnson,  31-33,  36- 
37,  41;  Charles  King,  41-42;  F. 
A.  P.  Barnard,  31,  33,  36,  42-43, 
81-82 

Priestley,  Joseph,  38 

Princeton  University,  22 

Private  property,  280 

Production,  183 

Professors,  true  functions  of,  87-92; 


criticism  of,  155-160;  appoint- 
ment of,  166-167;  removal  of, 
168-170;  accepting  other  posi- 
tions, 175-176.  See  also  Teachers 

Progress,  183 ;  the  elementary  school, 
186 

Progressive,  the  modern,  315 

Prohibition,  159 

Propaganda,  enemy,  in  the  Euro- 
pean War,  222-224 

Property,  private,  280 

Protestantism,  196 

Provoost,  Samuel,  30,  41 

Prussian  universities,  82-83;  Cul- 
tusministerium,  82-83;  milita- 
rism, 235-237 

Psychological  presentation  of  facts, 

136-137 

Ptolemaic  conception  of  the  uni- 
verse, 19 

Public  School  Society  of  New  York, 

33 

Publicists,  English,  20 
Puritan,  8 
Pythagoras,  385 

Queen's  College.     Sef  Oxford  Uni- 
versity 
Questionnaire,  86 

Railroads,  38 

Reactionary,  182 

Reading,  value  of,  151-152;  failure 
in  teaching,  187-188;  course  in, 
189 

Reasonableness,  215-216 

Reconstruction,  after  the  European 
war,  246-249;  social  and  eco- 
nomic, 277-281 

Reformed  Protestant  Dutch  Church, 
and  King's  College,  27 

Religion  and  education,  195-197 

Rembrandt,  320 

Remsen  family,  30 

Renaissance,  a  new,  303 

Report  of  1784,  on  King's  College, 


INDEX 


397 


Report  of  1830,  on  King's  College, 

4i 

Requirements  for  admission.  See 
Admission 

Research,  119 

Responsibility,  personal,  265-267, 
306 

Rhetoric,  99 

Ritzema,  Rudolph,  30 

Robespierre,  Maximilian,  332 

Robinson,  Beverly,  36 

Roland,  Madame,  58 

Roland,  Song  of,  189 

Romaine,  Nicholas,  41 

Roman  Catholic  church,  32;  law, 
oldest  institution,  65;  empire,  de- 
cline and  fall,  303 

Romanoff  dynasty,  237 

Rome,  German  propaganda,  223 

Romeyn,  John  B.,  30 

Roosevelt  family,  30 

Rousseau,  Jean  Jacques,  20,  189 

Ruggles,  Samuel  B.,  36,  42 

Russia,  German  propaganda,  223; 
government,  238;  at  the  peace 
table,  239;  disorder,  246 

Rutgers,  Henry,  30,  33 

Sacrifices  of  peace,  229-230 

Sadler,  Michael,  83 

St.  Andrews  University,  61 

St.  Omer  College,  32 

Salaries,  of  teachers,  113,  121 

Salerno,  University  of,  61 

Salisbury,  Lord,  163 

Salmon,  George,  271 

Scheme  for  an  American  university, 
40 

Schiller,  175,  189 

Scholarship  and  service,  1-15,  189 

School  of  Mines,  42 

Schuyler,  Arent,  30 

Science  in  curriculum  of  King's  Col- 
lege, 29-30,  32,  43;  School  of 
Mines,  42;  laboratory  instruction, 
127-128;  failure  in  teaching,  187; 
life  of  Pasteur,  21 1 


Sciolism,  7 

Scrap  of  paper,  362 

Screw  propeller,  38 

Secondary  school,  101-102,  105,  no 

Sedan,  battle  of,  238 

Self-discipline,  369-372 

Seneca,  254,  322 

Serbia,  restitution,  240 

Service,  new  call  to,  229-230 

Service  of  the  university,  53-67 

Shakespeare,  William,  189,  320,  350 

Shaw,  George  Bernard,  90 

Shelley,  Mrs.,  271,  274 

Site,  of  Columbia  University,  36,  44 

Slavs,  237 

Sloane  collection,  British  Museum, 

23 

Smith,  Adam,  189 

Smith,  Goldwin,  185 

Social  reconstruction,  277-281 

Socialism,  159 

Sociology,  91-92 

Socrates,  4,  6,  76,  88;  household  of, 
62 

Sophocles,  75,  189,  267 

Spain,  and  the  League  of  nations, 
239 

Specialization,  7-10,  104,  130,  137- 
138 

Spectator,  163 

Spencer,  Herbert,  91 

Spirit  of  unrest,  277-281 

Standards  for  intellectual  and  moral 
measurement,  291-294;  of  integ- 
rity, 298 

State  educational  building  at  Al- 
bany, 55;  Superintendent  of  pub- 
lic instruction,  56;  defined,  197; 
church  and  state,  4-5,  lO-ii,  197- 
199 

Steadfast  in  the  faith,  219-226 

Steam  navigation,  37 

Stevens,  John,  37-38 

Stevens  family,  30 

Stoics,  172;  conception  of  liberal,  180 

Stratford-upon-Avon,  350 

Stuart,  house  of,  375 


398 


INDEX 


Stubbs,  William,  bishop,  120 
Student,  president  and  teacher,  81- 
93;  danger  of  being  overlectured, 

92-93 
Students'  army  training  corps,  245- 

249 

Submarine  warfare,  222-223 
Success,  319-322 
Suffrage,  woman,  159 
Sumner,  William  G.,  120 
Supervision  of  teachers,  133-134 
Sussex  (ship),  240 
Sweden,  and  the  League  of  Nations, 

239 

Swift,  Jonathan,  21 

Tappan,  Henry  P.,  8 1 

Teachers,  true  functions  of,  87-92; 
the  academic  career,  113;  salaries, 
leave  of  absence,  retiring  allow- 
ance, 113-114,  121;  types  of 
academic  teacher,  119-123;  con- 
tact with  practical  affairs  of  life, 
121-123;  supervision  of,  133-134; 
appointment  of,  166-167;  re- 
moval of,  168-170;  accepting  other 
positions,  175-176.  Set  also  Pro- 
fessors 

Teaching,  freedom  of,  12,  63-65,  88, 
115-116,  138,  157-160;  lecture 
system,  42,  92-93,  128-129,  X34~ 
135;  methods,  127-130;  labora- 
tory instruction,  127-128,  130, 
136;  college  and  university,  133— 
140;  psychological  presentation  of 
facts,  136-137;  vocationalization 
and  specialization,  137-138 

Tennyson,  Alfred,  210,  325 

Teutons.     See  Germany 

Thanksgiving  Day  address,  219- 
220 

Thinking,  clear,  253-256;  for  one's 
self,  271-274;  forming  the  habit 
of  independent  thinking,  3 14-3 16 

Thomas  Aquinas,  4,  189 

Thoroughness,  325-328 

Thucydides,  189 


Titanic  (ship),  320 
Tolstoi,  189 
Townsend  family,  30 
Tread  well,  Daniel,  31 
Treitschke,  Heinrich  von,  89 
Trinity  Church,  25,  27-28,  34 
Trinity  College,  Dublin,  31 
Trustees,    governors,    not    adminis- 
trators, 164-165;  functions,  166- 
168 

Truth,  pursuit  of,  198-200 
Tryon,  William,  34 
Type  of  university  scholars,  7-10; 
of  King's  College  instructors,  31; 
of  academic  teachers,  119-123 

United   States,  ideals  of  conquest, 

245 

University,  origin  and  meaning,  5-6; 
function,  7;  types  of  its  schol- 
ars, 7-10;  and  the  city,  14,  27, 
44-45,  49-51,  138-140;  early 
plans  for  expansion,  39;  Dr. 
Johnson's  first  advertisement  in 
X754,  39!  scheme  for  an  American 
university,  40;  service  of,  53-67; 
Canadian  universities,  61;  defini- 
tion of,  62;  imitation  by  China, 
66;  efforts  in  Europe  to  develop 
an  office  similar  to  the  American 
university  president,  82-84;  true 
functions  of  the  president,  teacher, 
and  student,  84-85;  University 
council,  164;  teaching  of  reason- 
ableness, 215-216;  training  in 
thinking  for  one's  self,  271-274; 
against  lynch-law  judgments,  285- 
287.  See  also  College;  Columbia 
University;  King's  College 

Unrest,  spirit  of,  277-281 

Upper  Estate,  35 

Vallery-Radot,  Rene,  211 
Van  Buren  family,  30 
Van  Cortlandt,  Philip,  30 
Verplanck,  Samuel,  30 
Vienna  University,  50,  61 


INDEX 


399 


Virgil,  28,  99 

Vocationalization,  137-138,  149-152 

Voltaire,  189 

Wainwright,     Jonathan     Mayhew, 

Bishop,  41 
War  and  peace,  conquests  of,  245- 

249 

War,  European.    See  European  war 
Ward,  Mrs.  Humphry,  120,  185 
Washington,  George,  20 
Watt  family,  30 
Wayland,  Francis,  8l,  107 
Webster,  Daniel,  3 
Wharton,  Charles  H.,  31 


White,  Andrew  D.,  82 

William,  German  emperor,  233 

Winchester  College,  32 

Women,  educational  opportunities, 

43;  suffrage,  159 
World  in  ferment,  address  on,  355^ 

358 
Worthy    companionship,     209-212; 

contact  with   the  first-rate,  291- 

294 

Xenophon,  99 

Yale,  Elihu,  14-15 

Yale  University,  19,  22,  31 


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